Night languishes
On the crest of dawn
While birds start to sing
Their morning song
Birds are very optimistic. They sing to their Maker whatever the weather. Beautiful write, Leonard. Warm regards, Sandra
very pensive nostalgic..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hyperion welcomed by the glories of the morning…subtle quatrain bringing freshness…to body and soul…