When mighty words of the poets take flight
accentuating themes of new delight;
migrating aptly to heralding greens,
steadily climbing unfolding their wings,
cadenced by rhythm each opening line
awakening thoughts, the drumbeats of mind,
desiring beauty at the height of their quest,
proffering knowledge of life, love and death;
voyaging sadness, determining course,
discovering the sinfulness of verse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poem by any other name, still carries the same fragrance, perhaps. This one certainly has a richly aromatic essence. A clipped, almost staccato cadence, marshalling the reader along briskly through the bold images of each line. Well done, good poet!