Cherokee nation fills my mind with images of horses, tepees,
Indian maidens and their men.
Sitting around campfires, smoking peace pipes, enlightening their minds with thought as they lived simply and quietly
in desert plains, alone on their oasis islands.
Living quiet desperation at times, as white men took away
from them whatever they could through the years.
Silent beings, proud, tall of stature and blessed with
grace from spirits above.
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I would like to translate this poem
You hardly missed a cliche, didn`t you?