The trains have rolled across the plains
Through summer, winter and torrential rains
With hissing of engines and billowing smokes
The trains move on along lines laid through rocks
The trains come and go in fixed times
Sometimes slowly singing a sweet rhymes
They run for miles daily with goods and men
Crossing rivers, valleys, hills, meadows and plains
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem