I'M glad our house is a little house,
Not too tall nor too wide:
I'm glad the hovering butterflies
Feel free to come inside.
Our little house is a friendly house.
It is not shy or vain;
It gossips with the talking trees,
And makes friends with the rain.
And quick leaves cast a shimmer of green
Against our whited walls,
And in the phlox, the dutious bees
Are paying duty calls.
This song brings back fond memories of grade eight in a old school house.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I wany to know this answer the question is What makes the poet feel that his little house is a friendly house