Nightingales (Roundelay) Poem by Gert Strydom
Nightingales (Roundelay)
Barren are the hillocks, the cliffs and streams
in the wilderness where the sun harshly beams
where you nest, learn your joyous sublime sound,
filling many nights with something profound
where you sing at times right up to the dawn
and to your sweet voice many men are drawn
while it is echoes through the sky and ground
filling many nights with something profound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 3:25:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
