It is my other home
And I will soon be there
Beneath the starry dome
In the clear atmosphere.
I will wander around
In sunny street and field
By that historic mound
Where flowers’ fragrances yield.
Where birds sing without fail
Petitioning the sun
To bring its rosy veil
So that day is begun.
For if they do not sing,
They fear the world will end,
That death itself will spring
And darkness will descend.
I also have to sing
To this my other home
And let my praises ring
Across all land I roam
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very pleasant poem indeed, It is nice to read a poem that has good rhyme and a smooth flow, a birds song is the making of many great poems, and I love how you ended it...with you having to sing also, a great poem.