Old times with valleys full of flowers,
where the winds stirs the trees,
bringing a melody to our ears.
Next to a glistening lake,
amid the mist of the singing hills.
Inside a little room,
with wooden floor and wooden walls,
a small round window,
oversees the laughing hills and clear lake.
It tells the story of a fairytale,
in a world of beauty and joy.
Inside this lovely little room,
with a painting of the fluent blue ocean,
and a dreamy sailboat with crimson sails,
lies a piano grand and fair,
it's notes tinkle under the moon and stars.
with a peaceful lullaby carrying a child's fantasies,
as children embark on a dream.
of star-filled skies and high ocean tides.
Must we never forget listening,
what peaceful music a piano offers,
or the joy in the one a violin performs,
and must we sleep with lullaby's,
as we dream with forlorn lands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem