The shade of a bird
flew through my head
and like a needle
pulling thread
drew on its tail
a diamond wake
that woke my fancys'
placid lake.
The shade is flown,
the wake is closed,
the Fancy, too,
Is recomposed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a free and fantastic flow in this beautiful poem!