As I look at this senseless sky;
A fog appears before my clouded eyes;
Can you not see the straggler straggle behind?
For life's merry jest is but a ride,
And reverance beholds the clear mind,
But pain has nowhere to hide;
Rather it spills over to fill
My pastures with green clover,
As daisies and Queen Anne's lace,
Gently surround me and beckons my soul
With it's sweet embrace,
As the whispering winds delight
In sheltering my thoughts with
The everlasting breath of life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem