Sun lit clouds of gold
Hover over deep blue mirrors;
In magical realms
Of late autumn and winter.
I sense the coming
Of rare art and poetry,
That will do justice
To these times, and yet allow
Nature to breed Her
Surreal images without
Getting in the way.
I say remain still, yet bold,
And let the simple
Court the strange, and the profound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem