How can I exchange the peace
That feel I under these pines?
How can I
A more welcome coolness this coming September feel?
Below, below
The country falls
The country falls to a vale still green
From all the drunken dews of Spring
Though vicious summer heat preserved.
Below the peasant sings
A song that to my ear comes
In distant syllables
Audible yet unrecognizable:
And here and there
A thin smoke pencil-like
Arises from the cottages
Sparkled in few among the green:
Therefore how can I
Exchange the peace under the pines
Or a more welcome coolness feel
This approaching September?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem