the fields that smell of hay
the clouds so blue forming shapes
of art
the breeze that comes from the
mountains and the sea
meeting
in the backyard of the house
the butterflies that flutter freely
the bees that swarm and spread
like hands praying to
the heavens
the river that swells beside
a big rock
where we both lay and look at the
silent stars
the kiss as sweet as honey
as warm as fleece
from you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem