The Nearing Goal
The dull skies dripping in the morning rain
Cannot obscure the beauty of the trees,
The freshly crowned magnolia's crimson stain
Or flush of white like stars on darkened seas,
And green that covers the renascent earth.
The cherry tree in airy clouds appears
And daffodils beyond all reckoned worth
Rejoice and bloom unmindful of the years
That fleeting pass or mortal brevity.
The splendour of the seasons holds my soul;
Beyond my window's pearlescent drops I see
Through fog and mist and death the nearing goal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem