Look for the clouds on the western horizon
As they help the sun paint the country side
With the golden rays to bath the windmills
Sunsets have become my secret life guide
With red dirt roads leading to many places
So many chances to view the western sky
Magic ice that always remembers red barns
Magic ice that is obvious to all that pass by
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem