This year's maize turns green to yellow,
Ripening by the hour in Healy's fields:
Corn with a continental look,
Growing near the grotto in Killocrim;
Showing off its kilt of summer sheen
To your left and to your right;
Waving acres reaching to the river Feale,
Where philosophical fishermen unwind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
‘Where philosophical fishermen unwind.’ ~ Wahoo …fine touchdown…cornfield culminated into down-to-earth with vibe of emotion of ‘born-free’… thanks for sharing … Ms. Nivedita UK 10/10