I wondered as much as Wordsworth wandered
As why oft he thought about the Daffodils
Something never possessed, touched or spoken.
But only been from a large distant seen.
I wondered why the naturalist ventured
On a journey through parlous forests and hills
And risk his time, money, comfort and life
For sight of a rare mammal on a tree.
I wondered why the dying man desired
To see a long-lost childhood friend of his
And only after seeing through the window
Than did his stubborn soul finally leave.
I wondered untill mine own eyes hankered
For many years for someone, still unseen
Then I realized how Powerful a sight is
And daffodils finally made sense to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem