What's not possible, loud-showing
As for to make
A brash spectacle of myself
Vain and foolish
To lives, poorest for time spent on
What these cherish
Can display I; through this calm, dear!
For after-storm's
Anxious heart's rest. Which dark-bound state
For good cause praised.
This sun, fuller, your own upon
For love which raised!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem