Searching landscapes here in Arizona, no ocean or shores in
sight, all we have are mountains, some man-made lakes, desert
vistas and farther north, forests filled with pine trees, moss
growing on the north side of their trunks.
Always traveling around, loving to see everything there is to
see, camping everywhere, even in the snow, sleet, rain, heat
and freezing temperatures, living a life of simplicity and
tradition of long ago.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem