Skiing down mountainsides, speeding quickly between trees
and brush, never faltering or falling over.
A downhill voyage into nature as this mind concentrates
on beauty surrounding me.
Pine trees filling the air with their scent, beyond compare,
an essential liveliness of spirit joining that of Mother
Nature's, bringing into focus, an imagination of reality in
a mountainside forest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem