The grass is green upon her grave,
The west wind whispers low;
"The corn is changed, come forth, come forth,
Ere all the blossoms go!"
In vain. Her laughing eyes are sealed,
And cold her sunny brow;
Last year she smiled upon the flowers --
They smile above her now!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the old feel of your beautiful poem