Maya Angelou did so weave
Such wondrous word fabric in art,
Wishing each wearer might believe
That language can clothe yearning heart.
Once upon a place and a time,
Maya wove her fine words to reach
Passion of reason without rhyme,
Inaugurating senses each.
I, the Rock, the River, the Tree.
However history was worn,
Maya asked the people to be
Willing to wish all a good morn.
Maya gave language art that sings,
As Maya leaves on angel's wings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem