A faint foot fall, through the rambles of a wood,
amidst the wail of swaying….swaying Bamboo,
are heard the echoes of a lofty, unseen garden.
Such hollow, feeble weeping extensions
tossing the top most leaves on a wisp of breath,
to spiral and dance across the mist of a landscape,
casting a procession of enchantment and sorrow,
into the depths of a silver sun,
to shroud a wanderers path,
with breathless songs, of lone bliss and endless ecstasy.
Bound to wonder, in the hidden gardens of reed,
that are so humbly carried away,
if her fair ladies chant is but the wind,
a hushed whisper,
drifting through the bodies of bamboo
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem