Over the silent woods
The orange flame from
The dying sun flies past as
A lonely soul in penance;
Beyond the chain of hills
Rises attired in deep black
The angel of night to rule
Performing a mystic dance;
Touching the dancing ripples
The nest bound birds fly
Over a stream with heavy
Wings and drowsy eyes;
Like third eye of God a star
Begins to sparkle in the East
As a river in the summer
The aging day slowly dies;
Time for the darkness to
Gather over the dales and
Meadows and rivers and
Streets and stacks of hay;
Bringing with it stories of
Angels and gods the cool
Wind flows to give relief
From the fatigues of the day
You are not only a keen observer of nature but can paint the landscape in your poems with its changing shades and colours so as to bring the scintillating spectacle live to the reader. Amazing write. Thanks for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Over the silent woods The orange flame from The dying sun flies past as A lonely soul in penance; Beyond the chain of hills Rises attired in deep black The angel of night to rule Performing a mystic dance; - - - - - - - - - A wonderful poetic expression about nightfall which fills the heart with peace and tranquility.
Thanks for wonderful comment. Gratitude.