An aged pond lolled, a midriff of my
Family and the grey-haired bell.
Its morning chimes, blazoned melodies
Breast-stroke the novel air to us.
The knell of last night’s world, antiquated,
Enlivened our new reveries.
Today, a day of forgiving.
Sounding bells, to us blustered golden,
Autumn leaves, in cool autumn breeze.
Abated past squalls, consigned to the air’s midst,
A lode forevermore.
Prayers in minds, felicity in our hearts,
Spirits in boxed hands with neighbors,
In hymns, our blessings imparted.
Today, a day of Thanksgiving.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem