By them, twas not discarded.
Denying, thereby
The world of its loveliness.
Purest a face doth possess;
As swept off its sky.
On it who kept his or her
Blossom-fragile hold
Of no such-like, radical
Gusty change, detrimental
Had they been foretold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem