Often the child would wander
upon the hillock green
looking for the elves and pixies
and the pretty fairy queen.
She tripped quite happily along
listening for their dancing feet,
searching the bushes one by one
hoping they soon would meet.
But 'sugar plum' had found a grotto
a shelter from the insects' sting.
The child would wait until the morrow
to see her join the fairy ring.
Then - suddenly she saw the pixies
gnomes and elves and fairies frail,
dancing daintily through the daisies
as in a magical fairy tale.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
love the rhythm and the pace in this poem...enchanting