A gambling man with limits
beyond which he wouldn't go,
because a believer
(one who doesn't know) ,
Byron wouldn't bet for the sun against God
as the melter of snow.
If He would bring down Sennacherib's whole army
(all its horses too) ,
as it bounded to certain victory,
a wolf to a fold,
there was no telling what
He would do.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem