I won't be late, I'll soon be there, I can feel how she's longing, Waiting and Waiting. No thought of delay I'll foster or feed, For the evening light is dying, fading. I'll bring the season's flowers, The best of the Summer's store, How fond you are with your childish delight, By Dalia, Roses and Delphiniums too, Arranged to display every virtue of bright. I'll pay no mind to the setting sun, The mist in the valley that is forming, spreading, The language of nature that lightens the soul, For she is alone and Waiting and Waiting. No break in my step, no idle intent, For times moving on unconcerned ever more, And in it's wake the years confess, Of two kindred hearts and The love that we swore. Ah, I see you there, your Waiting is done, our meeting kept, And I thank you for the years that you gave. I then take the spray of the summer's store; And place them on your grave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very good poem Kevin. Your plume is excellent. Bravo!