Along the forest trail, as summer sings
Its sweetest songs, we come across many
Wild, enchanted things. We see them glowing
In the green swell of dreams that seems
To overflow with layers of beauty.
Illusions and realities combine
Here to such an extent that we perceive
The stuff of fairy tales and nursery rhymes.
Here our imaginations are set free.
We can be whatever we want to be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem