Watching nature waft in the breeze, thinking of pleasant memories of childhood; living in a big house on seventy-five acres - on top of a mountain in New Jersey.
Apple, cherry, mulberry trees abounding, filling us with their fruits every time we climbed them.
Dreaming dreams of beauty and peace, life was filled with serene harmony, as we sat on branches, pretending we were in our own little worlds with no adults to boss us around.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem