I stop,
by the lake side,
on a road wide,
at eventide
On floating weeds,
few pelican`s still,
as darkness creeps,
on the hill
The bell chimes
from a church not old,
breaking the silence
through waves of gold....
A tiny bird
flies along,
tweeting merrily,
in my song!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Eventide is such a beautiful word- -and the images glorify it! ! !