Much water has been flowing down the river of my years,
some murkey some so clear it looked like baby tears.
The banks are overgrown with reeds and useless weeds
both dropping in the season ripe and fertile seeds.
I stand here at the banks and wait, will you confide?
There is a space for me, just watch the morning tide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely poem Herbert...great images...thank you...Fi...10++