A poem of mine*
about a pansy
known as Yosemite Samsy, *
and one of his,
'How sweet it is...',
say to me,
'Don't think you're the first to think.'
I thought I was first
to put Sam's face
on a pansy.
Google saw to that.
And Wordsworth saw to Ralph*
in his flat.
That one of his
also says, fearing insanity,
'Stop thinking
before unity takes you beyond the brink.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem