Inseparate and wholly self-divided
Ticking myopic lenses of the dead
Invoke a voice that rewrites contortion,
The resin of impartial conception
Stripped bare to the result of ranked desire
Makes rebels form a corner from each sense
And spin til turbines permeate in fire
Recoiling the visage defacing dense
Columns of wind that break apart the void,
A grieving heart is left beating in wake
For the unanswerable God, devoid
Of change and reflecting out its own sake;
A life that calls in us behind the grave
Re-imagines fate we must kill to save.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem