What beauty lacks on a mossy shore,
where water, now stagnant, crashes no more;
Does it miss the breeze or tide of the moon,
has the sun set and set again too soon?
What fleeting bloom radiates but pulchritude,
what rainy day dwindling seemingly intrudes?
Can we not see things in this way—
the perfection of a blue sky going gray?
What tears that fall do not emanate the rain?
What sun can shine that would bring pain—
Why can we not see all in this way
so none but beauty is left to remain?
- Samuel Richard Leonard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem