The virgin dolly bird sings in her vineyard
and the virtuoso listen her arrogant melody
at his cottage window merrily.
The old rusty fence isn't a barrier it seems
if she pass a gentle glance?
The bystander in his fantasy
counting the stars in the mysterious sky.
Wine turned to vinegar
and the lonesome soul still a bachelor.
To my poet friend Dave.Tanguay
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The tone of this poem is a bit fatatalistic and world weary. But it is very well written, Nimal. Kind regards, Sandra