The world has grown too big, 
The firmament too wide: 
I could lose you in a moment
Like a leaf borne on the tide, 
Like a swallow on a cloudy day, 
Like a feather in the storm, 
Like a flame that's fading in the grate
Though I'm longing to be warm.
Leaf, come drifting back to me
Like some miracle of fate; 
Swallow, turn and fly my way -
By autumn, it's too late; 
Feather, blow against my face -
I'll feel your touch at night; 
Flame, rekindle in my hearth -
There is no other light.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    