Deep down the woods
By the bank of the river
I sat and hear the birds singing,
Some sang melancholies
That kept my heart moving
With a smile i turned away
The unhappy and the sway
Then i ask if this peace may
Mend the broken arrows,
And it scars on my face
when it wind blows.
When ever pensive grows.
With a glimpse at it sight
I restore my broken plight
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem