Seeks to stake some sort of claim
upon my frivolous spirit
So I attempt to explain
He feels much more than me.
Proceeds to insist that I feel
More than I know I could
Then waits for me so patiently
In the far and distant wood.
There that boy will wait for me
To cross the field and find,
But my time is more pleasantly spent
Alone, cleaning cobwebs from my mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem