The dew stained grass brushes my bare feet with the softest of touches. Its sends me cool pulses and covers me in goosebumps. The wind pulls at my hair with a mothers invisible fingers, setting it straight and messing it up all at once. The trees spread out high above, a protecting figure against the vast and unending blue sky. Here I am safe, here I am at home with the tightpacked trees and soft brown land. So here I will stay as long as I can.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem