Far off in the valley where
Flowers bloom all day long
Where wind plays with crops
And whispers a pleasant song
Where cutting through green
Grasses the stream runs ahead
I go to meet her in the evening
And come back feeling low and sad
I hear her voice at a distance
And she is no more living there
She is dead and buried by the stream
Scent of her tresses lingers in the air
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem