Hills and dales of ancient land, bleak, barren and glaring
Where my thoughtless, happy hours beguiling childhood strayed,
How the sand with ages of patina on me is warring,
Howl, moan winds of the past above my tufted shade!
No more, gone the days I went out on an April morning
All alone, for my heart was high with the wind sigh
I was a child of the shining meadow, tulips on hill, and willow low in mourning
No cloud on vast blue heaven, just this sapphire eye of the sky.
Now in the windy winter flood of morning in rear
Longing lifted its weight from me,
These happy days are lost as a sob in the midst of cheer,
They swept me out to them as a sea-bird out to sea.
Oh, those summer days when the air was fresh, fearless and untangle
And every leaf in the wild field was lustrous blazing new,
The world at night was abound with moonlight spangle
The lilac brimmed with morning crystal dew.
There in the moving shadows and silhouettes
I caught my breath and in joy and in sing
My heart was free, fresh and fearless
And over-flow with young spring.
Now no more, yet I shall chase the hours beguiling,
Former favorite haunts I see;
Now no more my fields and trees of back days are smiling
Makes that seems a lost heaven to me.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
' just this sapphire eye of the sky'.......I like the way you play with words.