Looking over the valley from a rock
I hear sounds I can not mock
The birds in all their forms
Are singing from their leafy dorms
Listen to their symphony of mirth
Composed from the pages of the earth
In the distance I can see suburbs
Nothing natural within these kerbs
Although order has its place
I find no peace in a rat race
Instead a recipe for disaster and dearth
Displayed upon the pages of the earth
Now it's hot when it should be cool
A kookaburra laughs but who's the fool
Man's technology may hold our fate
But we must change before it's too late
Read the message around its girth
Printed on the pages of the earth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
With poetry like this, I prey you'll post more. What a beautiful composition.10/10