Night was the faded negative
Rummaged from a family album
Trees were the elegant gymnasts
Petrified in a moment of time
From vast tracts of virgin land
Covered by woolly brush
And ponds gasping for oxygen
Came the hauntingly familiar
Nocturnal sounds
Which are sadly vanishing
In an urban quagmire
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Superb use of metaphor to convey your nocturnal message. The music of the natural world goes fainter. Only the discerning soul can hear its inner cry. Very touching, Leonard. Warm regards, Sandra