I have achieved much in my divine hours,
And relentless speeches have issued forth,
But the remedies of my headaches are good
Like the rains of a selfish winter or snowy night.
I have much blessing from my mother and father,
It describes the being of blood and justice,
This smaller attitude climbs the heart in solitude,
I have much to say for the plants and botany.
I must have accomplished too much religion in
The hours of the crying night, in silent vigil
Or tested pleasure, that famous spider of right;
It crawls forwards like the marching of saints.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem