Her ocean seemed to drift onto
a small inlet full of blue,
And within she dove straight through,
into a world of velvet hues...
Upon her enter she did not find
the sort of things she left behind,
And did not miss the landy grass
upon she swam this sea of glass.
And the years did pass too fast
as salty mists upon her cast,
An ocean apart from the shore
which she left to return no more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem