The river, sweet and fresh

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The river, sweet and fresh

As the waters of a river, sweet and fresh
That runs on their banks without stopping
I like dancing with the brightness of moonlight
And I let the wind play as a child playing with me

As the waters of a river, sweet and fresh
and undefeated to my party at my settlers Rocks
to assemble an orchestra of drums as I ran over them
As the waters of a river, sweet and fresh
I am hot and cold always end up in the salty sea

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Poetry is what is lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

Doblenelson777’s Poems (10)

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