I hear the woods cry and the stream stops for a while
And fiery birds fly to a distant place.
An isolated boat drifts lazily and the ferryman is nowhere?
I sniff the fragrance of the hidden flower
And I feel someone keeps her in a cruel city.
This rare flower never blooms here again
That I am sure like a Sunset.
*Man! It sounds great. [Maxim.Gorky-The lower depths]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nostalgia for what once was and can never quite be again. Praise for your extraordinary word painting. Warm regards, Sandra