The poplars in the fields of France
Are golden ladies come to dance ;
But yet to see them there is none
But I and the September sun.
The girl who in their shadow sits
Can only see the sock she knits ;
Her dog is watching all the day
That not a cow shall go astray.
The leisurely contented cows
Can only see the earth they browse ;
Their piebald bodies through the grass
With busy, munching noses pass.
Alone the sun and I behold
Processions crowned with shining gold
The poplars in the fields of France,
Like glorious ladies come to dance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I remember this poem and i might be wrong, but there is a verse missing after verse 5 which goes like this...I called to him in a thousand ways and yet he did not come; the pathways and the hedges were horrible and dumb; I prayed to God who never heard, my desperate soul grew numb...