I wish I were an artist,
an impressionist master,
to convey the sense of glory
and explosions of light when
we walk out in the early morning –
The emerald leaves flickering bright,
the sky such an intense azure, only
shimmering pastels would succeed
in recreating the scene I see, feeling
as if experiencing fireworks
In the land of the gods; how can visual
beauty be retained – I want to store the
scene and feeling in my brain, to recall
mental images for evermore, but when
I turn away, the scene is no more
Whereas sound seems to accompany me
even after the music has stopped – the sound
of your voice, caressing my ears, the sound of
your laughter, the delight of my heart, the sound
of your words
Creating an edifice of joy in my heart…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem