Had once spied a cemetery
Nestled upon a hill,
With azure skies inviting
Mossy tombs standing still;
Horizon awash in blue
Sea waves kissing the shore,
Wild wind nudging conifers
Breakers singing a lore;
Hills paying its obeisance
With soulful solemn plea;
Gay blossoms floating across
In waters of the sea,
Brine accepts not from mortals
Nor receives from the dead,
When treasured gifts are offered
They are thrown back instead.
Saw hills and sea play barter,
Across life's mystic porch;
The dead found it amusing
Lying in peaceful watch.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The poem paints a wonderful landscape of exquisite beauty in which the the scene comes alive. Saw hills and sea play barter, Across life's mystic porch;