 | A collection of poems by Ernest Radford |  |
15
TRANSLATION.
[On the high mountain range]
On the high mountain rangeThere is rest.
Of wind
Not a breath
On its crest.
In the forest—
Hush, hush,
It is late—
No call of the bird
To his mate.
Lullèd to slumber,
Folded to breast,
“Soon,” saith our Mother,
“Thou too shalt rest.”
| A collection of poems by Ernest Radford | |