I stand on a sod there I dwell,
with not a step to take from there.
I'm a beauty gay on a fell
at the mercy of the wind's care.
My look and my scent, each a spell
to draw minds to my presence fair.
When the sun's gold strands bestow well
on me, my joy flows as the air.
It seems that love from me does tell
its sweetness in their hearts to bear,
like the gentle sound of a bell
with its jolly comfort to spare.
But a thought I have that of hell,
of when time arrives to impair
my life to collapse and to jell
no more with my form- -wiped out clear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem