Move along, with the descending silver grey.
Winding round, with the softest sound.
You can barely see, the colorless branches,
The longing silhouettes,
Changing their ways to the stars.
It's so endless, so vast,
Keep forgetting,
It's here.
Let the reeds through your fingers,
And dare to the image,
In defiance of blessing,
Just for awhile, the rainy day blue.
It was never known,
And never will,
Still I cling to this key,
The reasons left to wander.
Under the scarlet oaks,
And rows of aspen,
Lost and weary passion,
Stir the comfortable,
And shake the real.
For the necessary- it grows of roses,
Leaving orchids for untouchables,
Who find their way through the silver,
And dream with the grey.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
For the necessary- it grows of roses, Leaving orchids for untouchables, Who find their way through the silver, And dream with the grey....Very beautiful lines in this marvelous work shared. Interesting poem....10
Thank you for the kind words. Glad you enjoyed.