Vibrating crickets pierce the softening dusk;
trees dark’ their waving boughs
and stand like sentinels ‘gainst cooling sky;
the lazy music of sleepy birds
hangs in the branches of their roosting trees,
and on the water, white flowers of egrets
bloom on the naked remnants of a broken branch.
The deep blue blanket softly mothers her weary child
and gently draws her to her quiet breast.
November 1963
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem