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In lands I never saw—they say
Immortal Alps look down—
Whose Bonnets touch the firmament—
Whose Sandals touch the town—
Meek at whose everlasting feet
A Myriad Daisy play—
Which, Sir, are you and which am I
Upon an August day?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
My most beloved of her poems. Or any one else's. A child's vision. Splendid.