Wander a new land, one never known
Traces of prints dusted by snow,
Stones awaiting the gilded grace of evening
(the company of others; diverse things- for what?)
But wanted silence, the muted evening.
Night, the best of wakefulness
Craving the peace, of other stars afar.
Being here, tonight; the entrained thoughts
(what was mind, what led us upward?)
The edge of snow, the path bordering mountains.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mountains are indeed hopeful...an upward path warms the soul in spite of snow....the peace reigns here and all words point there.....well done most blessed poet.