The village of unrivalled wonder;
Is probably none else than my own;
Ravished by beauties of it, my woes fall asunder;
Caressed by grammy and grampy, I'm loved when I bemoan.
All the enticements remaining spry in this place;
With the fields, the grass, the crops and nature affinity;
And with the seeds to sow in the fields to make Earth's somatic grace;
Grow there fruits, veggies and emanates through the sign of Divinity.
Will ever there be a place like this one;
Dust too of which seems to appear so unsullied;
Where the warmth in the light of the sun;
Can be savoured solely by villagers and not by the people monied.
The rainy days of here are très great a charm;
Where falls the rain not on the buildings but on the veranda in my home;
Where the onset of rainy tears mark the the next season's alarm;
How richly magnolious does it style the arena, where unco blithely I roam.
All will grow to enter the world of senile life;
But my ecstasy is sempiternal and I'll be forever on cloud nine;
I live for as long as in my village, my goodwill is likely to be rife;
Die even if I, will make sure my soul, that in my wondrous vill, peace & prosperity won't ever resign.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem