The rose garden in this spring,
Lies trailed with mist, and desolate,
And virtually sad and wearing gloom,
In this evening gloam, after sunset,
A night warbler sings in a thrilling -
but shaking and nervous voice,
Around my home, near the Nigeen lake,
The cool and fresh breeze blows,
Touches my heart and kisses my soul,
Gloriously it shines as the full moon,
I watch the tides and troughs in the lake,
I am alone listening to the sound of waves,
In the stillness of soul
Mykoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem