Pale gray against the forest floor-
A sight I had not seen before
Beneath the trees rose from the ground
A humble yet defining mound
The faded stone was resting there
With rounded corners one time square
The left side sunk a little low
The right a place for moss to grow
A curious glance revealed no name
Although to touch faint letters came
But all the rain and grime ensured
That few were left to spell a word
Time stole the story written here
Then scattered it among the years
And leaving just the stone behind
For travelers like me to find
If not to read, then to remind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
By this only one you get the ticket to the world of poesy.It is so beautiful you present every poem with a story having a start a middle station and an end.Every poem seems to get that way a personality to remember not to be forget.On this path you will never loose your way out of the poetry's prairies.
Thank you for making my day.