There's its brickwork archway
Wreath-like enfurled.
A sunblest portal into
Another world!
England's up-stepped, sat for
Timeless honoured.
Of those of rank: housewives!
Ladies: house-proud!
Tea-in-pot trayed, scone-tiered
Sipped, snatched as deft.
Poured over gossips - same!
Crumb-spilt, what's left!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem