Two odes were present in a yellowed book,
One, with its well-known parts,
The other, with more subtle arts
Seemed seductive to my unpractised eye,
Leading to some greater part of the sky
Than the known verse; I took,
Turning the page in the yellowed book,
The ode I thought less ravelled.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem