I took a morning stroll along the terrace
saw colorful gardens quite well groomed.
Sweet natures fragrance had filled the air
as an array of flowers had recently bloomed.
And then wind chimed in the distance
higher pitches wafted along on a breeze.
I counted 8 rings like an octave sings
to the dance of the branch with fluttering leaves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have taken something that we have all done and turned it into poetry with music and eloquence. I could hear the wind singing.