Her name was of maturity in the snow,
Excitement, laziness and pride was correct;
And this afternoon she strolled across the falls
As the rocks beneath her emptied her tin and soul.
Like a tall woman the lady was afraid of the young dark,
In this watery place that stood out in rainbows and light;
Into the sea, in this ocean we spectacularly mean,
Little is done, little is explored while the dangers pass.
Her name was grand in the opening,
There was no particular danger, in this,
Losing me, and so fast, her hair stood out,
From the edge of the cliff, to frighten me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem