I believe it is a orchid
to be so pure and white
so high up in that tree
and nearly out of sight
it's not a sprite or nymph
they are no more they say
who could place it there
not any child at play
too small to be a ghost
too bright to be the news
it may be watching us
and hiding other clues
it's certainly not a bride
lost in the lonely wood
perhaps we'll never know
perhaps we never should
maybe a vagrant dream
that never had an end
that landed in our tree
blown there by the wind
the puzzle can't be known
the secret safe it seems
like riddles never solved
of orchids ghosts and dreams
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem