Second wind is a mysterious force - like second light.
- Galway Kinnell
At the rounding of each plateau,
insinuations of greatness
ennoble the bounding ascent.
Volumes of gentle air
without imposition, ripple the
ambiance.
Legions of lodge-pole pines,
evergreen, ever faithful,
lift their arms in perennial salute.
Rimming the majestic plane,
a coronet of mountains.
Above the high sierras,
the silence of light reigns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem