I envy the birds that fly up in the sky
For daily can they soar in the clouds
And over the hills and vales
And watch the little stream flowing by
I envy the bee that each day
Hops from a pretty flower to another
For each tiny drop of nectar they drink
For the sweet fragrance that comes their way
I envy the little child in its mother’s arms
Of the morrow, nay, the next instant
It has no thoughts or worries, yet
When hungry can cry without any qualms
I envy those little rocks by the shore
That can enjoy the waves crash each time
And watch the tide come in and out
Yet keep happily wanting ever more
I envy those who can croon
For though music fills my heart
And soothes my frayed emotions
I still can’t sing a tune
I envy the poet who can
Paint a canvas with his pen
When I struggle to find a single word
And despair, as a poet, an also ran
I envy those families, with love
Stay together through laughter and tears
That togetherness is certainly a gift
Given by the Gods above
I envy those happy souls around
Who have no wealth, no retirement
Yet in that drudgery, daily toil
A lot of happiness they have found
I envy those without envy
Thankful with what they have got
Not pine for what they haven’t
Which is what I do, envious me.!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem