another blaze of sunset grace
another year, another page
winter's chill is gently fading
another spring has come of age
each and every year I pray
to see the dogwood bloom again
azaleas testify to hope
blooms speak like a lost friend
I know that life and seasons turn
the sun goes down, planets spin
without much heed to my desire
or any other want of men
the day is ending, seasons pass
another sunset's grace for me
as time proceeds around the sun
descending, where I cannot see
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
to see the dogwood bloom again///dogwoods [the english name was unkown to me]were some of the few fruit bearing trees in the field outside our house in the village.I liked so much their yellow blossom.//The same your poem, Barry.