Under a purple moon
anytime soon
fall crystalline drops.
Moonbeams glisten
the shadows listen.
to a soothing tune.
In the open field
without a shield
a little boy plays
with a silver spoon.
The world's his creation
his people, his nation
in his dreams he will fly
to give his boon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem