There goes the train, steaming by.
The grass waves at its passing.
The smoke rises before falling.
I wonder where it goes, and why.
The train goes past me every day.
The passengers don’t notice me
Watching from the boughs of a tree.
I want to ride the train, far away…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is a sort of pastoral feel to this poem Sophia. I think it is because of the steam train. It speaks of a nostalgia. I like the disconnecting feeling that pervades the piece, it's sort of existential. The structure of this is very good and it is certainly a fine piece. Written with feeling I think.