saw a famous poet, in my dream,
Where shady path-ways to a valley dream;
A weeping willow lay upon that dream,
And all around the mountains brink were spread
Wide branching trees, with dark brown leaf rich,
Forming a doubtful twilight-desolate and sorrow.
The place was such, that heaven gate who entered in,
Discourage was of earthly thoughts,
Long time I stood, and longer had I dream,
when, oh! I saw, saw by the lovely moon-light,
which came in silence o'er that silent shade,
where, near the mountaintops, something like beautiful roses
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a beautifully written piece! Well done!