Cornflowers and asters in fragrant meadows,
where a goat with a goatee poses and a dappled cow lows,
please me more than English gardens and potted ferns
and pink hibiscus in mock Grecian urns.
Wild violets and modest white daisies
delight more than intricate hedge-mazes,
while happy black-eyed Susans
dispense their happy infusions
and incite me to plunge into the scen’ry and take a bath
along the fringed and frayed path
and wait for the fragrance and the salubrious air
to divest me of all distress and care.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem