When pondering on the different loves we share
While looking on our verdant land and sky,
Might it be far-fetched to quite compare
The flower'd fields and cosy clouds with us who float on by?
Hers is an earthy love, rounded by hard choices that she makes,
The mistress-manager of this grounded shop of knocks,
An angel- investor panning through her suitors' sorry stakes,
Though her feet be in the air, yet her eye be on the spinning clock.
He, it would appear, is more flighty in his aims,
Wistful as a songbird's call upon a breathe of wind
Which flowing through the firmament doth each new place proclaim
His fitness to be chosen, even though she may rescind.
And thus a perfect match between is oft demanding to accord,
Thank goodness then that Mother Earth her atmosphere adored.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem