A lazy drizzle ceased,
The garden still wrapped in a languorous haze,
With droplets sliding off leaves.
Warm vapor rose to meet,
Moist sunlight, that filtered through,
Air laden with the aroma, of rain-washed grass.
A trail weaved in and out of a shady grove,
Shivering droplets onto walkers,
Who gingerly stepped onto this slippery path.
A hushed presence surrounds this enchanted garden,
Perhaps, the portal of magic was still open,
Transmitting a state of grace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem