The year is poised
In abeyance, hidden
But still palpably there
Right next to us
Rubbing shoulder-to-shoulder with us
Tempting us to hope
To anticipate it's coming
Luring us on to the next day
And the next -
Wanting to be our friend,
To share in it's riches
it's fresh breezes and sunny days
It's rushing rivers and misty dews
It's heightened sense of joy
And forgetting of the past
Until at last it arrives
In all it's glory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem