Ere Greece soared, showering sovranties of light, 
Ere Rome shook earth with her tremendous tread, 
Ere yon blue-feasting sun-god burst blood-red, 
Beneath thee slept thy prodigy, O Night! 
Aeons have ta'en like dreams their strange, slow flight, 
And vastest, tiniest, creatures paved her bed, 
E'en cities sapped by the usurping spread 
Of her imperious waves have sunk from sight 
Since she first chanted her colossal psalms 
That swell and sink beneath the listening stars; 
Oft, as with myriad drums beating to arms, 
She thunders out the grandeur of her wars; 
Then shifts through moaning moods her wizard charms 
Of slow flutes and caressing, gay guitars.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                     
                
The master of imagery!