A sea of green reeds in the sun
That ripple where the wind will run
A winding road
A distant Mill
That shimmers in the heat when still
A turbid tide across the bar
Behind the pines there salt pans are
Where Avocets wade white on blue
To fishing huts bleached by the light
Illuminated
Painted bright
The coloured boats along the shore
Noirmoutier
All this is you
And more
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem