Not in the wind would blow;
What miles would after will it never plough:
Seem not a real show;
A dazzle of humbles would repel the flow:
Diamonds and roses grow;
A shine and a blooming would realize a saw:
Come through the deserts, No;
A place would incise a tangle, hoe:
Block or define so;
Belingers on boulevard and rattles, oh:
Since all the dynast braw;
Fin tippest of mountains adorn claw:
Off to the market's graw;
Remind that oceans align to brightest allow:
Meek to the finest plough;
Adjust that flock to mind tow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem