a
soft
unheard
reveille and
morning was awaken:
a soft gleam bathing the
the tear-laden path with sparkles;
early creations beginning to stir
in the coolness of the damp earth;
a breeze gently blowing on the trees
playing with their branches,
ruffling their leaves
until one falters
in silence
and then
slowly
falls
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful! thank you.