Scattered leaves
drift on the pond
and play with ripples
Mother tree stands!
Alone she whispers;
'Never mind they get real freedom now
The whole year they stuck with me.
And I hear the faraway thunderstorm
with her usual singsong.
That won't take a long time to bring me down
O this poor weak & skeleton!
[It's time we had uncommon schools, that we did not leave off our education where we begin to be men and women.It's time that villages were Universities.]-Henry David Thoreau, Walden.
nimal dunuhinga
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem