On such a day in this tumultous time when ochre sky watches us,
The sylvan wood of an enchanted forest gives thanks;
All the divers species of birds: doves, parakeets, robins, sparrows, gulls, mockingbirds, orioles and others, tweeted thankfully,
Verdant earth and celestial sky peeped through cumulus at each
other;
Even the pebbles on stony streets of Metropolis shouted their elation.
The ubiquitous wind whistled around the globe clothed in its exhilaration,
As the elephantine beast trumpeted his gleeful thanks in the forests of the wild,
And I remember that once a prophet with the nomenclature of Isaiah
Looked through the pellucid curtain of time and beheld the six-winged seraphims in a sempiternal exercise of praise.
But how many of the seven billion souls who inhabit here gave thanks?
O but we do need a multitudinous chorus of praise to ascend to heaven, in this day and in this tumultous time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem