The horses of day plunge and are restrained
Dawn broadens to quarter height, and the meadow mists
Drift like gauze veilings, the roadway ingrained
With traffic marks shows so, Saturday enters the lists
To show like a panorama cattle brought in
And dapper farmers bargaining in white spats,
Cross crowded, bookstalls past paupers resisting
And as ever the Cathedral masterfully blessing the flats.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
keep up the fantastic poetry my fellow poet because you are good at what you do.