In the morning
A gaze at the grass, could reveal it green
From the horizon Far East
It could be seen manifest
It's bright rays across the galaxy
A whole gift of the day
With the exact copy of the moon
But it gets stronger at noon
It make the morning due glitter
at the margin of the leafs
making them the colour of wet violets
filled with the silent sound of rays
lapping the ground to clear anything that seems to be wet
it clears any wet blemish on the clothes
that were washed by mum's fun
expecting the sun
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem