From where I sit
I can see
A lonely blue hill
In winter
It is heavy and dripping with snow
Covered in tiny green icicles
In spring
It is echoing with birdsong
A leafy green canopy above
In summer
The hill is ablaze with heat
The sun beaming down
In autumn
It is the most wonderful shades of color
Red, gold, yellow, orange.
Whether my window
Is hot to the touch
Or frosty on the outside
The little blue hill
Sits solitary
Stationary
I think
The hill is lonely
All by itself in a vast world
I think
The reason I like this hill
Is it reminds me of myself
Always changing, always different
Surrounded by mountains
And feeling so small
Covered in creatures
And feeling so tall
Alone
In a vast world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem