In to the sword of destiny
you
throw me merciless:
ah! there is no pity
even if a Poet Seer!
destiny has favorites
power and glory
but wait! in short term
only.
For touched and goaded by
Justice continually
Destiny long term his
ancient friends discards
power and glory and
what in his frosty hand of
oblivion lay he warms to fame
and makes for unknown humans
a new shrine and a new name.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem