In meadows full of rolling green,
A far off wood completes the scene,
It stands atop the distant brow,
And fills my heart with warmth, somehow.
In England there will always be,
Vistas of uncertainty,
That then are turned to Majesty,
By those blessed with the gift of seeing,
Becoming one with natures being.
Artists a many have been fortunate in this,
That they possess sight into the abyss,
Whilst most people view but still cannot see,
They make it so easy for you and for me,
To view the heaven; in natures beauty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem