Could mother earth ere bring a scene more true?
False would be the soul of one who’d scoff
Blind as bat, or snug like pig, snout in trough
To miss a scene like this, of ocean azure blue
Great ships so filled with mystery and with crew
Change shape and size, come close and taper off
Into a sweet horizon that swallows in a gentle cough
That leaves a mist as subtle as the morning dew.
There on far horizon, where artist waits to paint
And poet pens a love song, sits silent and alert,
Twittering birds sing evensong; lovers simply faint
As all the world erupts in beauty and in truth
That dances o’er the waves, makes music in the dirt
Where naked feet caress a soil both moist and O so quaint.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem