Moving silently on gossamer wings
The faintness of sounds as a skylark sings
In the distance the sound of the traffic hums
While office employees just sit on their bums
And out in the fields, where nature provides
Some moments of beauty, to take in its stride
Behind office windows, the staff breathe a sigh
And stare at a clock, while the day passes by
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem