Morning time,
Shrouded in bewitching eerie silence
And supernatural mist and dews,
The world still asleep,
Awaking from
With the break of day, break of light
And the sun rays glistening, flashing over
And photographing.
The white lilies into the ponds
Splashed with dew drops
And the white storks stalking
And the kingfishers in wait
As for a silver lining, a good catch,
So still, silent and secret,
Full of serenade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem