Dark As Flint.
Changeling child, eyes dark as flint
Runs fleet as wind across the wold.
Hair flying wild and browning skin
Feels neither heat, nor stinging cold.
Taking strength from wind and sun,
Sharing lairs with creatures wild.
A presence felt but rarely seen
So wraithlike is the changeling child.
Left by fairies in the night
Spell-bound in the forest dark.
Washed by moonlight shining bright
And captured in the fires spark.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem