Through the summer with its itinerant light
Where cut grains are yellow-brownish and knot
Full of the gentle wind to bathe its laying lot
By the muddled coming murkiness of the night
Where the days are in green leaves and bright
With summer in its middle of July and hot
Before earth is in its decomposing rot
When birds in high nests first try out their flight
I'm there like a young traveler before
With my heart and beat in its pondering
When the days are surprising in their lore
And my mind full of thoughts and wandering
I'm like he - a voyager through an open field!
When the breeze of midsummer to me yield
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem