My bedroom’s window is an awesome thing
wherein birds are reflected, as they sing
sometimes pecking or knocking on it
drawing them to land, to start their whistling,
and I have a lovely kind of view
of hollyhocks covered with dew,
growing over a fallen tree, with ferns
and bright geraniums looking crisp and new,
although I am alone, are on my own
I do see at times that the birds have flown,
I know that nature’s beauty affects me,
see the leaves in autumn falling down
and nature speaks right into my heart,
whether being together or apart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem