Some young calves jump to and thro
and the Frisians are black and white where around me they go,
big-eyed cattle that chew the cud I do see
where in tranquillity they do look upon me
as if a meek friendliness they do bestow
while some do eat new sweet grass from the ground
but the dog chases a plover and its chicks is not to be found,
while guinea fowl call as if something secret they do know
and the Frisians are black and white where around me they go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem