She speaks of trees but I do not reply
I dream the clouds to decorate the sky...
She speaks of snakes but I am far away
Butterflying through a field of hay...
She speaks of love I cannot hear the sound
Above the waterfall I've newly found...
She speaks of apples, wait, can that be right?
I turn a dazzled eye, shrug, take the bite.
I speak of pain but she won't listen now
Says: it'll be all right, c'mon, let's plow...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem