Brambles, weeds and thorny thistles
Poke their heads from chain link wires
Whispering arcane epistles
Wind and summer rain inspires
If a passerby should linger
Hoping to observe their sounds
They withdraw their tapered fingers
Crouching lower to the ground
Man was never wont to enter
Secrets of low wayside chaff
He prefers a richer mentor
Ruby red or golden calf
It may be grace dwells in humble
Unkempt much neglected dells
Hid behind a stone wall crumbled
Where wild dandelions dwell
I have ceased to walk on highways
Graced with blooms of finest breeds
Now I creep in hidden byways
Hoping to hear songs of reeds
Brambles, weeds and thorny thistles
Poke their heads from chain link wires
Whispering arcane epistles
Wind and summer rain inspires.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Grace dwells in humble unkempt much neglected dells', I agree entirely, 'hoping to hear songs of reeds', I'm there with you! ! ! Liilia, I'm entranced, words for the spirit, food for the soul!