Often, too often I recall back the beauty of past childhood days,
The wandering in early summer morning against raising sun in wild fields all alone
There I heard the free birds singing; calling their friends in pert and nimble fun plays
Even now at this moment in my ears echoes their song; a yearning feeling of forlorn
Around me were the echoing yellow wheat fields being combed by the wind, beyond me
The magnificent citrus orchards with rich lush foliage as the sea
I may go thru whatever transformation; pass through death and ages in my quest to be
Once more in the air with the scent of these citrus trees
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem