Wherever the sun does fall with its rays
while in our world people do go on in their ways,
and in the Côte d'Azur, Provence or Pretoria does tarry
there is hope that the new morning does carry
where over mountain and dale its light stays
but when in a radiant crest the moon covers it
with the importance of the sun we are hit
and as a red ball it glows on many days
while in our world people do go on in their ways.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem