On the slope of a hillside plain to see
Staunchly stood a maple tree
At her huge rough bark and branches tall
I gazed with awe when I was small.
On her strong great limbs I used to swing.
In a small clear voice with joy I'd sing.
I felt as I watched the clouds on high
There was no one but God, the tree, and I.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem