The sky is so blue, so pure, and so soft.
My dreamy mind ascends, gently, aloft.
The breeze stirs the boughs above my head,
As I recline in the dahlias of a flower bed,
In a vast, majestic courtyard, ringed with mountains,
Where tall, ivory statues glitter among the fountains.
And around their slender, silvery spray,
Beneath the lindens, bowed and bent,
A princess wanders in the golden day,
With raven eyes, and long, black hair,
Which lends its lovely, scarlet scent
To the wafting wind, in the summer air.
~ John Lars Zwerenz
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem