In many ways it's the perfect day
To see the county town of a shire;
A misty morning gives a fair warning
Which sunlight could not inspire.
From the road we see
Woods hills, pubs streams,
And fields that roll up and down
Near a historic market town.
Hedges grant our way and dance
Down and along every lane.
Though we see new views many,
As native sights they feel the same.
From the road we see
Woods hills, pubs streams,
And fields that roll up and down
Near a historic market town.
My spirit soars when a river's course
Winds before my very eyes,
Glistening like evening stars
When darkness fills the skies.
From the road we see
Woods hills, pubs streams,
And fields that roll up and down
Near a historic market town.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's a pretty poem with a pretty description. Thanks.