Evening descends silently upon
Rooftops and treetops bringing
With it magic of the receding day
Soaked in the shine of gloaming
Fields and dales change colors
Making a stage for nightlong play
Tired stream starts to get covered
With blanket of darkness to wake
Up with appearance of morning ray
One by one birds rush to nests to
Their nestlings as in barns shadows
Grow longer from stakes of dry hay
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem