in my lodge
in the woods
in the quiet and away from the clamor
with the silence that hangs in the mist
just perhaps an occasional rabbit
or a creature as curious
to see a strange making
like home to the creature, but strange;
and then an occasional visitor;
but mostly seclusion, and quiet
hovering over basic needs
and simple desires
and so let the lazy days be
and the life in the midst of trees
and regularity, and what nature offers me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem