Still the dawn,
still the dew,
still the moments
dwindling down to few.
Still the shade,
still the light,
still the heron
flapping wings for flight.
Fill the air,
fill the sea,
fill the forests
falling rain to be.
In the background,
it will go on.
There is comfort
in what will come has gone.
Still the orb,
still the glass,
still the lion
leaping through the grass.
Still the dream,
still the heart,
still the lover
praying not to part.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem