Above the bluebells faeries fly
whilst down below the pixies cry
in joy at all the things they weave
with faery dust which abound to leave
In tree the twit-twoo of owl's
keeping elves a hidden fast by cowels
will not detract from faeries flight
until once more comes mornings light
Such time is short cannot deny
the time that faeries have to fly
many claim to see, but very few
have watched them lay the morning dew
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the pre romantics started the trend and you have beautifully carried their torch... a good one