(in answer to WEG Louw)
White is the sunlight
where it turns in the early morning
much higher than any starling or crow
in equilibrium on the streams of the wind
beneath the dew glistens,
over the dunes tracks walk away
and the grey falcon is free and not lost
does constantly turn around and around
while it sings astonished over the beauty
and it's as if it is sad
does miss its mate in all of the sky
while it keeps turning in its flight
does constantly call in search of meaning.
[Reference: "Vaalvalk" (Grey hawk) by WEG Louw]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem