A cracked window pane,
Slowly being cleaned by rain,
Dust leads each drop down,
Just past her befreckled Frown,
Chasing the White Horse.
Her time had come, to -
Build her old glasses anew,
See as each glance shows,
her fears die- and courage grows,
Catching the Lost Mare.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The poem Recovery is a nice poem.