The moon relinquished sharp-edge cliffs at sea line,
And with transparent gold: the waters shine;
On board of their pointed boat, this evening
The friends enjoy their heated glass of wine.
When looking at the clouds passing swiftly
Through the reflection of the moonlight post;
Some of the friends will find those clouds closely
Resembling the holy women’s ghosts.
Another group imagine those clouds
As heaven bound souls of pious men;
The third of friends insist without doubts,
The clouds resemble caravan of swans.
Muse! ! Landscapes, Sharp-edge cliffs. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
A beautiful poem on how different people see things differently. Rhyming and flow are so sweet. Enjoyed reading.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a beautifully worded poem