Once a dream had weaved its spell
And had met such finality to smile on the face,
Looking at the lights of the water,
The heart sank its sights on the absolved,
Although thoughts had been rejected.
With a heaviness, his voice had murmured,
Do they hear their mother sign the evening?
Pitying, he leapt and enjoyed the spring
Gushing forth in his sleep.
Replying to the wailing weight,
He leapt and leant to stay
Calling the watchman and glow-man
Weeding the grass and soil.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem