A small, a gentle sorrow,
yet a rush of staining tears.
The tower’s high, I won’t go near the railing.
Spring Mount’s as far as I could see from here:
you’ve gone beyond there now.
translated by J.P. Seaton
A small, a gentle sorrow,
yet a rush of staining tears.
The tower’s high, I won’t go near the railing.
Spring Mount’s as far as I could see from here:
you’ve gone beyond there now.
translated by J.P. Seaton
poetry by Robert Ford
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“…you’ve gone beyond there now.” To a place we cannot go. Lovely
Glad you like it.
I sigh, oh Leonard every time the words are even more beautiful.
A good sigh I hope.