Way up high in the tall tall trees
The wind rushes by like a gentle breeze.
Way up from everyone, from all the laughter
and all the fun
I sit as solemn as can be and wish that I
were a tall, tall tree.
To feel the breeze and gentle rain
The singing of birds in a gentle refrain
To hear far off and distance sounds
To be hundreds of feet above the ground.
If a rich man were I and I knew I would never die
I would trade it all if I could be
As gentle as a tall, tall tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great write! Thanks for sharing! Wonderful poem!