In the dry light of morning, I return to the well.
You think you know the outcome of this story.
Sunshine is a naked, roaming thing like hurt.
A well is a chance embedded in the ground.
The well was dry yesterday and the day before.
You think you know the lot about sunshine -
an early bird knows sod all about perseverance.
Good people, you lay down your curling souls
on the dust and surrender. I swing my bucket.
If the well is dry today I will come back tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hope springs eternal. I think this is part of what you were trying to convey. Only you know. Nice, thoughtful poem.