~ from hundred and one sibilant regrets at Le Mont Parnasse
Pity this block of timber -
though statuesque; mourns -
whose lines and curves are stately,
whose manner refined symmetry:
its shavings receive a swift send off;
kindling, on this frigid winter morn...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Aloha A.S. Great online handle... Thank you for this most interesting and thought provoking post... I will to respond at a later date... I enjoy these styles of messaging... and You have slung me around this globe, from cloud to cloud looking for the most proper and concise way to respond... O O S S T T U... a partial beginning... All of the best from this life, to you, and all of your relations... Michaelw1two.