She comes resplendent as the morning sky,
To lord the roses over in the sun,
An augur fair, as white clouds drifting by,
Sure to presage the day nicely begun;
She hails from dewdrops of the mountain grass,
Safe from the encroach of the grazing cows,
Touched only by the West winds' hasty pass,
As grasses, tall, bend in concerted bows;
Then blown away as dandelion seeds,
Out of the mist, into a glorious flight,
Whereat my wild imagination feeds,
To find occasions for spells of delight;
…….So, if by chance, such beauty you would see,
…….Without a doubt, my girl, she sure, must be.
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I would like to translate this poem