How many million Aprils came
Before I ever knew
How white a cherry bough could be,
A bed of squills, how blue.
And many a dancing April
When life is done with me,
Will lift the blue flame of the flower
And the white flame of the tree.
Oh, burn me with your beauty, then,
Oh, hurt me, tree and flower,
Lest in the end death try to take
Even this glistening hour.
O shaken flowers, O shimmering trees,
O sunlit white and blue,
Wound me, that I through endless sleep
May bear the scar of you.
It is well written as always, in many ways it shows her only friends are the trees and birds and part of life which surronds her, it is sad. bonnie
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow.ell articuated and nicely penned with beautiful rhyme scheme.......