Surging up a hill,
my tired legs shout in pain.
My lungs groan in agony,
but the flowers wave to relieve my pain.
As my legs pound the pavement,
the wind whistles tunes of new.
My arms glide through the air,
while trees bob to the beat of my steps.
As I round the corner of my street,
the sea of leaves leap from their seats.
My angry feet canter to my drive way.
The field of grass sways in unison, welcoming me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem