This view of you, all share
Enwreathed, that slips not
Of bright faced innocence;
Amused with licence;
Haggard, hoarse, or later
With the frozed on scowl
Even she, at that ascetic
Of trendings cyclic
Who is our earth-mother, cannot
Mar, not ever
This love-imbued reaction
Be-gilds each season.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem