The sky is ever azure
no cloud dare mar its view
as shepherds gather flowers
sweet maids to win and woo
The grass is soft as velvet
no brambles, thistles there
fair muses chants soon mingle
with birdsong in midair
I'll sit beneath the willows
and watch their weeping cease
as hot tears turn to diamonds
and sorrow finds release
My world is called blue willow
an ancient, timeless place
A dell beside a river
where hope and love embrace.
A beautiful poem Lilia, very imaginative - I love the idea of a blue willow world, truly inspired and poetic.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Blue Willow, wonderful, 'hot tears turn to diamonds'.