Breeze beats my face, in the fields of yellow,
The sun bids hello, but my heart feels mellow,
Over the hill, across the county,
In the search of bounty, for the fight of almighty,
You left me with lonely, acquainted with agony,
And in these fields of lilies, I’ve heard of the calamity,
May in these fields they will see, on this tree it’ll be
The witness of a tragedy
That never should have been.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem