I stand here silently,
Intently listening,
As the burdens of life,
Flow downstream with the current
Chirping, Whistling
Nature singing its song,
The wind whispering,
Through the boughs of the pines
The imagined faces,
Glide whitely bye,
On an easel of blue,
Brushstrokes unnoticed
Brought here by the path,
That flows through the wood,
But guided by the heart,
With a yearning for calm
I stand here on this island,
That I have seized for myself,
Always wary of the slippery moss,
Ending my conquest
There is safety here,
Away from the prying eyes,
The danger of the forest,
Welcomed and unheeded
The passing of time,
Cast its long shadows,
Soon I must leave this place,
And it saddens my heart
My body reaches out with hunger,
To the last few rays,
Of the setting sun,
For the warmth of the soul
As the fireflies mingle,
And begin their nightly dance,
I retreat to the world,
Momentarily refreshed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem