On the highest plateau, I found flowers
With starlight still lurking inside,
From the glow of the finest moon-hours
Where the dew and the fireflies abide.
Frost glittered like scattered gems,
Placed in shadow by dark-velvet hands,
And the plants there had smooth agate stems
At the edge of the deeper badlands.
I found dreams which were left by a child,
As he sailed far above the moon’s smile;
By small hands and soft eyes they were styled
And they twinkled for many more miles.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is really quite good. If one reads it too fast the beauty of it may be missed... read this one slowly, thoughtfully... it will come to you.