A friend with voice like morning dew,
He sang a poem, tender and true.
His words took flight, like birds in spring,
I found my heart began to sing.
Each verse, a whisper, soft and bright,
Lit up my world with pure delight.
Now poetry's my cherished art,
All thanks to him, it filled my heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem