Twas the birth-time re-visited.
First hour's and pang's, finding me
Five-yeared, forsook-eyed, when as one
Frights of place crowd grotesquely.
There, home strayed, love's stronghold, where thoughts
With a rush sacred converge.
Placed thereat, in distant feeling
Dark bounds for creation's verge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem