When I am deaf
And poetry turns me on
Know that it's rendered
In croony mellow tunes;
When so sweet and palpable
It becomes,
The blind see it
And it darts and pops
It walks to the lame
And that's when I prance
And laugh and love it
Rendered for the initiate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem