Riding along, looking up at trees, watching them flail,
dance and move to the tempo of the taxi.
Morning sun shining on palm fronds, causing them to
glisten and shimmer in gowns of natural beauty.
Knowing trees are not moving, it's just
me riding along in a taxi, making me move like in a
video.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem