Twilight has past,
the horizon is black,
Lonely oak tree
A huge lacy mass.
Watches the moon rise
It nestles in its branches,
Held fast in its empty breast,
Held gently in a sweet caress.
Picturesque and calm,
No birds or clouds found,
The breeze whispers your name,
I know I am loved.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
"Lonely Oak tree… the moon…nestles in its branches"… exquisite, enigmatic