The wild goose is more of a cosmopolite than we
he breaks his fast in Canada,
takes a luncheon in the Ohio,
and plumes himself for the night in a southern bayou.
Even the bison, to some extent,
keeps pace with the seasons
cropping the pastures of the Colorado only
till a greener and sweeter grass awaits him
by the Yellowstone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem