Little girl, locked away woe
At high latticed window.
Stared at, sympathetic favoured
With a touching regret.
Of whom spurted, not only
Out Day's first breath, flamy
As that of a warmer uprush;
Responsive urgency's.
A feeling-current! Shoots which breeze
More bird, butterfly yet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem