I prefer the gorgeous freedom,
And I fly to lands of grace,
Where in wide and clear meadows
All is good, as dreams, and blest.
Here they rice: the clover clear,
And corn-flower's gentle lace,
And the rustle is always here:
"Ears are leaning... Take your ways!"
In this immense sea of fair,
Only one of blades reclines.
You don't see in misty air,
I'd seen it!It will be mine!
I prefer Gorgeous Freedom And fly lands of grace.....great poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
" Ears are leaning... Take your ways! " In this immense sea of fair, Only one of blades reclines. You don't see in misty air, I'd seen it! It will be mine! a very fine poem. tony