A river have I to travel
For what purpose I do not know
But here I am, heading downstream
Thrusting the oar through the water
I propel my wood raft forward
With miles to go before I sleep
Numerous arbors have I past
Willows with river-kissed branches
Widowmakers growing massive
But no matter what tree I pass
I remain the lone sojourner
With miles to go before I sleep
Knowing that I must continue
Devoid of all hesitation
I bid these fine arbors farewell
As my raft drifts through the water
I stare into the distance
With miles to go before I sleep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem