When all the noise, the clamor,
the busyness of life,
weighs down upon my soul,
I long for the serenity that can be found
high in the mountains, among the majestic trees,
where I love to hear the forest sounds.
I happily exchange the raucousness of cars
and the incessant ringing of the phone
for the clamor of the squirrels,
the owl's solemn cries, the wind as it moans
and the chorus of the crickets, singing lullaby's.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Call it respite or retreat, your poem paints a pretty picture of it. It's a shame the lights of the city prevent us from seeing the brightness of the stars. But you don't even realize that until you have been in the city and then in the country. With the price of gas, my bird feeder and your poems will have to do for me for a while. Thanks for letting me hitch a ride into the country with you. Tom