The bright orb called light
we know
it regulates all internal clocks
to grow.
Bathing basking in its glow
with out thought our flesh
takes life.
Wind comes forth with new breath
moving the wheat on stalks afresh
to sing as its grain for you
it feeds.
The great wales have a song for this
singing the wonder of seven minutes
do bring.
The moon gives way mystical
effects our daily tides to play.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem