If you sit and think of larks
waters rise and take you
bobbing to other shores
of daffodils in blue haze
amid mists of white doves
taking night flights.
You will float through cornfields,
so rich, rich, the deep earth
of ground gold,
and your voice will sing
loud songs with lyrics
of parakeets and herons
and then the geese will come
and nest
in the heat of your wake.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very lovely poem, Suzy. Thanks for sharing