He has about him a faint muskiness
Not the musky aroma distilled
With floral oils,
But the fragrance of furrowed earth
Mingled with heady barley and damp alfalfa.
I know he is there
Even before the sight of him:
His power, his longing and tenderness
And scent of the fields
Call out in a clear, silent song.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really enjoy the sense of longing on this one! It's amazing how potent smell factors when triggering memory, isn't it? Excellent write! Regards, John