I look to the river
for life is a quest
the end of the line
a quiet place of rest
past long lonely roads
the clear water flows
and where it will lead
no one really knows
there must be a stream
still hidden by trees
and just beyond reach
a soft tropic breeze
so scatter my bones
where no one will search
remote in the wildwood
for there is my church
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Life is a quest', indeed it is, lovely rhyme