Sometimes in dreams
I watch the woods
fill up with snow
as did Frost.
And I pose myself the
question, what would be
the cost
of leaving behind the city's lights
and vitality
to join with nature and shun
humanity
but just to think such things
brings a shiver
these are just idle thoughts
like those of Miniver
For who am I to change
the road that's been given
is fate the only thing
we should believe in?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem