One-hundred years could have passed
While it was spry and dancing still.
It shimmered, glowed and flashed about
Hiding to reappear at will.
And then it stopped. The glow was gone
Its place was dim and dark and still.
I looked again, and there it was
As tho’ with lots of time to kill.
Again, it hid itself away-
Merrily dancing out of sight.
Will it return just like before?
Me thinks my thoughts are oh so right.
The die-hard sunbeam I adore
Is somewhere dancing evermore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem