Dulcet time is always coming,
When the clouds are away with tears;
Little birds in trees are humming,
New songs from forgotten years.
Pleasing love is color blooming,
To sweetest you who is so dear;
All the seeds in earth are booming,
Reaching out for growth and flare.
Trust me you will likewise be glad,
When in your garden roses grow;
And take away your lonesome sad,
That from winter past did show.
Pleasing love is color blooming,
To sweetest you who is so dear;
All the seeds in earth are booming,
Reaching out for growth and flare.
My eyes wander throughout the night,
Looking to a faraway star;
This blazes out its twinkle light,
Without knowing who we are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem