In the deepest catechism,
The truest sincerity
Of my soul,
I desire not my actions,
The quiet games so
Childish, grown old.
Secretly: I see this poem
Held free in your mind;
Dreams of peaceful times.
Hold! Fast
Flies the future, the water's path.
Out of our souls, soon
Spring will grow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
such power and hope in those last three words, very very moving. I liked the way it tied everything from the poem up. -landrey