Oh wounded maid within my boat
On the Cam we drift and float
Overhanging trees and brush
Conceal the nightingale and thrush;
These birds salute you with their song
And lament with you your grievous wrong
Chirping wildly with their whistles
From the bracken and the thistles;
The light fades with the setting sun
Shadows obscure from where we’ve come,
It masks our futures as we go
In the blackness of the flow;
We sit at peace within the boat
On our island dark remote
Fireflies pulse and softly glow
O’er the water dancing slow;
You cup a firefly with your palms
You offer it as golden alms
And then release it to the air
You move your arms with wondrous care;
Oh gentle heart, oh wounded maid
With what betrayals are you plagued;
What brutal mouth could taste your kiss
Then steal away to other lips?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a quiet moment taken into view by your words! Amazing