Golden hues gently spread,
Across the horizon, they tread,
Mornings, a silent art,
Painted with a tender heart.
Dew-kissed petals glisten,
As sleepy towns awaken, listen,
To the whispers of the breeze,
Dancing through the trees.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nicely imagined and written.