Nature's bounty knows no bound.
Round us trees with wealth are crowned.
All in jewelled green are gowned.
Ripened fruit carpets the ground
Pluck onyx brambles by the pound,
With wine and jam friends to astound.
Well fed creatures gratitude sound.
Man's due thanks may I propound?
As earthly years turn round and round.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem