As the netted sunbeam falls on grounds,
Through infiltrated canopy the ground it pounds;
The many beams of sunlight,
Powerful, blinding and bright;
The plant saplings curl out,
All the beautiful flowers sprout;
The jungle remains still,
And let's all animals their fill;
The safety of the jungle echoes,
And drives away all foes;
The productivity of the jungle is high,
And yet we find reasons to sigh;
It is very generous, helpful and kind,
It provides food, shelter and all you can find;
Yet when the jungle is in need,
There is no one to help or do a good deed;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem