I often dream of such places
Where solitude and lilac scented breezes
Usher me off on the wings of an angel
Among the hidden confines of leaves
Changing their colors with the wind
On lily pads ruffled by the August breeze
While bream underneath stir their beds
Drifting with borrowed light at dusk where
Martins swan dive and serenade meals
Listening to death rattles of pecan leaves
As squirrels scurry and scramble for nuts
Squadrons of crows circling in flight above
Cacophony of symphony echoing the sky
I often dream of such places
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem