The Valley's full of misty cloud,
Its tinted beauty drowning,
The Eucalypti roar aloud,
The mountain fronts are frowning.
The mist is hanging like a pall
From many granite ledges,
And many a little waterfall
Starts o’er the valley’s edges.
The sky is of a leaden grey,
Save where the north is surly,
The driven daylight speeds away,
And night comes o’er us early.
But, love, the rain will pass full soon,
Far sooner than my sorrow,
And in a golden afternoon
The sun may set to-morrow.
I love this poem it is calm a really describes a true mountain in rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
esketit boi im not a faggoo but I am sallow boi i dabot m8eee free bw over dere