A sweet child's hair,
Left floating on the sea.
So interfere this day, yet fair,
If this is not a dream, what could it be?
The dog so free,
Chained with shiny gold bowl.
Live life for me,
And I'll save you from this six foot hole.
A poet of which we see,
Sitting happily under the floating fences,
Watching as the little bunnies flee,
Forgetting the feeling of our long lost senses.
Laughing under a tall oak tree,
The spring time air dances in melody.
The poet now sings, none smart as he,
Rain and thunder conduct this beautiful symphony.
The sweet child's hair,
No flowing in the wind so smooth,
The Night brings us something to share,
Rest my darling, dream a dream the God's would approve.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem