What is more cheerful
than an open wood fire
on a star-filled night in the forest?
What are the sounds you hear
as the flames consume the wood?
Do you hear pops and crackles
and ticks and snaps?
I hear chirps and twitters
of the ghosts of robins and bluebirds
and sparrows and chickadees
who sang upon those boughs
when they were in blossom last spring.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem