Think
Think Poet-Seer
and
then
in the first prodding of
the Muse
the first wine in the
stringing of the lyre
sing:
versify and chant:
you
be the lark flying in face of
Dawn
you be the Beauty over
the seas at Dawn hovering
you be
the beauty of the woods in pain
of towns and seas and country
in tempests grueling
you be
you be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem