Two doves, most gentle birds,
I have scanned your white feathers
In a company of you.
I outlived, not yet born to the flood
nor woman screaming after it.
Oh! Gentle birds
I have seen your story.
Rain was your sun
while the forest were gone.
There was no heaven to view in
a round vain breed.
Thence doves ate man shelter by rocks.
Angry thunder served fulminating gay
in raining heaven.
Two doves of the ark
I know you from the past
upon Ararat you name me.
Addressing Olive lead to depart
In a sweet savour, man was favoured.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem