On the blue plains in wintry days
The stately birds move in the dance.
Keen eyes have they, and quaint old ways
On the blue plains in wintry days.
The Wind, their unseen Piper, plays,
They strut, salute, reatreat, advance;
On the blue plains, in wintry days,
These stately birds move in the dance
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem