Bronze Trumpets and Sea Water -- On Turning Latin into English

Alembics turn to stranger thingsStrange things, but never while we liveShall magic turn this bronze that singsTo singing water in a sieve.

The trumpeters of Caesar's guardSalute his rigorous bastionsWith ordered bruit; the bronze is hardThough there is silver in the bronze.

Our mutable tongue is like the sea,Curled wave and shattering thunder-fit;Dangle in strings of sand shall beWho smooths the ripples out of it.