The oceans,
cool warm tides,
fresh ice,
flow in around up,
soft folds,
rain inside, hot Terra.
Locks welsh Glens,
hold moist foggy fjord.
Soundless, glaciers move
voice lost, soul filled icy
tr ac, blue calves hear Avalon's,
reach clear edge, is
stream exposed, it runs
back washed to Terra's sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem