Green hazel lights gilt rimmed with gold,
that sparkle like the morning sun;
That splash with fountains uncontrolled,
that brim in joyous childlike fun.
When he is dismal, they grow dark,
with shadows hiding unknown fears;
Not one glimmer, nor one spark,
A signal that heralds the tears.
And when he's angry, they flash fire,
embers gleam and burst aflame,
into a blaze that bristles higher,
until he can his temper claim.
All the time, they mesmerise,
I gaze in wonder at sonshine's eyes!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem