We leaned on the brass and oak railings
And watched as the water churned
Billowing green candy-floss clouds
As the propeller turned;
Watched as a million tiny starlets
On tops of ripples flashed
Dispersed to heaven and back
As the propeller thrashed;
Edging closer to the landing platform
We looked back at our wended way
Past islets clumped with green
Past each inlet and bay;
Took in the greatness of the lake
The rugged mountains and peaked backcloth
But now it was time for leaving
Our memories scattered amongst the froth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the beautiful Windermere.. it has a special place on my memories.. Thanks for sharing, Paul