Resembles Life what once was held of Light,
Too ample in itself for human sight?
An absolute Self-an element undergrounded-
All, that we see, all colours of all shade.
By encroch of darkness made?
Is very life by consciousness unbounded?
And all the thoughts, pains, joys of mortal brethe,
A war embrace of wrestling LIFE OR DEATH?
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I would like to translate this poem