I do not have a garden
a hedge as fence or wall
no well trod path to travel
no swing from branches swaying
of roses none at all
There was a time now faded
when I would barefoot sway
enveloped in green glory
of trees and shrubs of summer
all that has gone away
There came a time when roses
turned to a cursed stem
forever branded scarring
from thorns of love abandoned
a cutting diadem
Yet in my darkened chamber
those summer meadows gleam
as dingy shadowed windows
transform to vines of cedars
to crawl on ceiling beams
No earthly grove or garden
rapt loves of days long past
can rival my fair visions
of fantasies now welling
in dreams old age amassed
I do not have a garden
a hedge or fence or wall
no well worn path to travel
no swing from branches swaying
of roses none at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A garden in your mind's eye, beautiful memory!