Triflings of a water's descent.
Tricklings, but of a glee.
And that, in honour of shy me.
Its childish kept likeness.
Preserved in a ferny covert
From a wind, ill-humoured.
And a world, colder, far-rumoured.
Still heard. Through each life-stress!
Marriner's falls, Apollo Bay
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem