This lovely sweep of the air, imparting
Spring's rarer tenderness, that my garden
Too would adopt, for its haven;
That the sower of dreams himself, listing
Flower-like, in a swooning reaction
Is seen courting its reception;
And that's your pale white hand fluttering,
Your butterfly-like gesture on the air
That says "Love holds me aloft there".
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem