Even the breeze smells of spring
And new beginnings
Of time well spent
And time to come
The goose eyes me warily
As I drink in
The fresh air
And wish I were in the lake
Refreshing
Bathing
For I'd rather be washed in the water
Than the blood
I see St. John out there, on the dock of the bay
He's drinking a beer
And blessing the flock
Rock on, St. John, rock on...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice and awesome poem and recited in such interest.