They sort to teach of things I knew
Seeking to re-inform, and make anew
They spoke of cabbages
And of kings
They spoke in ‘isms
But, not of things.
They did not lie
Or imagine, or dream.
They rode the train
Of thoughts conformed
Ever changing,
Yet, untransformed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem