Under dawn's, crepuscule's lights
restless our shadows stretched
to extend to the boundless glazing sea,
to climb up the slopes of barren land.
At midday they used to wane, our measures to fit,
minds were not swelled by feathery charms.
But leisure times came
and wasted middays in light-hearted naps,
dreaming flights on plumage.
Painful the nostalgia
of missed and lost midday's shadows, alas!
I wonder, dear Kelly, how you noticed it.Do you look up all the new published poems or did it happen to look up my page? Thank you very very much for the flattering kind word.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful, poetic composition with a subtle feeling of nostalgia.
Thank you Mihaela, nostalgia and remorse by the same time for things not done the way we should !