I'm surrounded by trees;
I'm surrounded by shade.
'What do they call this? '
'Maybe a glade? '
(Not quite!)
Grey-ish birds chirp merrily
in respite from the sky,
(an assumption)
though I can hear naught
but the highway nearby.
We can search for our Waldens
but it isn't the same;
Nature loses her aesthetics
when caught in a frame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, absolutely right...., Nature loses her aesthetics when caught in a fame.