Sunlight and shrill cicada and the low,
Slow, sleepy kissing of the sea and shore,
And rumor of the wind. The morning wore
A sullen face of fog that lifted slow,
Letting her eyes gleam through of grayest glow;
Wearing a look like that which once she wore
When, Gloucesterward from Dogtown there, they bore
Some old witchwife with many a gibe and blow.
But now the day has put off every care,
And sits at peace beside the smiling sea,
Dreaming bright dreams with lazy-lidded eyes:
One is a castle, precipiced in air,
And one a golden galleons can it be
'Tis but the cloudworld of the sunset skies?
....most lovely with a beautiful diction.. ..and excellent personification of morning ★
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Can there be descriptions better written than these? Read those verses and close your eyes and you are there by the sea and you will hear the seagulls shriek and feel the sand between your toes. Absolutely top-notch writing! ! ! - - - - Sunlight and shrill cicada and the low, Slow, sleepy kissing of the sea and shore, And rumor of the wind. - - - - -A sullen face of fog that lifted slow, Letting her eyes gleam through of grayest glow; - - - - -But now the day has put off every care, And sits at peace beside the smiling sea, Dreaming bright dreams with lazy-lidded eyes: