(Girl's Song) 
In Babylon, in Nineveh, 
And long ago, and far away, 
The lilies and the lotus blew 
That are my sweet of youth to-day. 
From those high gardens of the Gods 
That eyes of men may never see, 
The amaranth and asphodel 
Immortal odours shed on me. 
In vial of my early years, 
As in a crystal vial held, 
What precious fragrance treasured up 
Of age and agelessness distill'd. 
XThine but to give. Give straightway all.Y 
Yea, straight, mine hands, the ointment rare 
In great libation joyous pour! 
Oh, look of youth. . . Oh, golden hair. . .                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    