With strained nostrils
We awaited your visits
Our gaze married to the doorway
Azure the route appeared
Still we waited
Verdant meadow
Oiled hoes
Pined away brown
Thick throats
Supple skins
Cracked its hold thin
Tied to your trail
On the threshold of you
Seraphic garment gathered above
Our pulses thumped droves
Silence blazed your gaits
Then you serenaded upon: on our sleepy roofs
our sterile fields
our panting skins
Empty the bag upon us
Attend it river mildness
And when your weight is out
Wander not far yonder
For waiting can be smarting
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem