She makes morning her complete serenity
Quite at home with the birds and bee's
Comfort afforded their sweet majesty
'Neath the sovereign Mighty Oak tree's;
In need of nothing nor no one, she gazes
Such splendour-her company, of nature's divine
Her stomach 'tis turned by the material world
In complete joy 'neath a bedediction O' sunshine;
Her flowers, simply, sparkle awake in the morn
As they are touched by the magic of nature's dew
She, at bliss, away from the 'Man-Eaters' hiss
Celebrating her glorious morning 'neath skies O' cobalt blue;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem