There is music in the woodlands
When the birds their carols sing,
As they flit about the old oaks
Where the ivy tendrils cling.
Warblers, orioles and linnets,
Blue-birds with their brilliant hue;
While the sky-lark sings his sonnet
In the sky's ethereal blue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem