A tree, a tree! A tree burning
Red in the garden of ghosts
Where shrouds cluster round and
Dance in dilapidated red.
Dilapidated the house behind the
Gardens surge upright.
I saw them level with the falling
House
But no! they go up, up
And I did not see: so was
Negligence.
But then
Negligence in such head-whirling
Spells that swept around
In my poor flesh and brain
Was not so unexpectable.
I did so, and now
I excuse myself my slip.
Magic versus Poet Seer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem