Inside a moving bus
her eyes gaze still
through the windows
to the calm glare of people,
streets and roads
plants and trees.
It seems they are unknown
and unseen.
Then the thin winter gust
stirs her young mind
waves the unruly hair
down on morning eyes
and reminds softly
she belongs to them
they belong to her
in an untold eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a timid poem, silently filled with love of nature. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn