I always wanted to go there
into the sky
with wings made of feathers
as soft as dawn
when the moon shines bright
On the water below
when the wind whispers
the old melody
the small oak bends
lost in the wind
for time draws closed
and all the world sleeps below
never knowing
what light will bring....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
superb........fly fly fly.....