I'd spent some time there
on exquisite dunes,
before a gust blew in from Belvedere
and played a melody like looney tunes.
I slip and plummet down the slopes,
a copse awaits and breaks a careless fall,
awakened are, through scents, forgotten hopes.
Is this the foyer to a long lost Royal Hall?
And pleasant is the ambience, I stay because it suits.
An ancient melody, its plaintive promise sweet,
as moisture trickles down to thirsty roots
and whets the appetite, there in the heat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem