Lovelier that stain-glassed
Churched on a hill.
And that, higher windowed, from out
The west, melting
To enhance birds' rung praise
Spring's hour, honours
This light show; of a mixed seed;
There, at our feet.
With both God, down there on slug-street
And Heaven felt in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem