(cradlesong for Titania)
this strange and transient hour
we are here
in fleece of snow or flower
that will disappear
has - Something -
lit within it like a dew drop tear-
lingering, to bear as away,
in any mysterious year.
mary angela douglas 22 october 2018
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mystery is lingering to bear the fleece of snow or flower. The transient hour gives us strange feelings. Beauty motivates mind and gives pleasant perception. An excellent poem is beautifully and excellently penned.10