Twisting into languid lightning lashing
Out of the deep rue of roiling rage rolling
Toward the apex of the lie imbued within
The angel's centrifugal echo irradiating
The world in golden swaths of gilt right
Before the shadow in our soul opens its mind
And spills ripe spirits reaped from the vine …
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem