Life's sometimes hundrum haze
and maze of tangled thoughts
are now and then lit by illuminations
fleeting through the lens of revelation's eye;
like a full-moon in June
fringed with a late-night-hot-navy-blue satin sky
or an expanse of shimmering water
dotted here and there by an odd-dark-green island;
waves and leaves rustling in an contented sphere;
radio-voices and soft music floating over the air
travelling from a distant dwelling;
the identification of a wild plant or flower;
your only child putting his big toe in his mouth.
Miracles without grandeur,
miracles of simple import
with no screaming white gulls
spoiling the tranquil view of the sea's horizon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem