I am the wind, my dear lady,
I can not be grasped, I can not be captured.
Slowly and gently I move,
Making every forest's tree to dance.
I am a horse that must not be ridden,
Not even by the most beautiful Queen
With fine gold
And silver from heaven.
Or a she warrior
so fierce and bold.
I am that lonely road
Whose travel history is never told
Though I make distance short to meet,
For both travelers with weary feet.
I'm a vessel, my dear lady,
Cherished
by the potter,
And Only his hands,
Is fit for a true romance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Samson ogbeewi. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.