The meadows filled with flowers,
These flowers bend in springtime showers.
I behold this planet's,
Green poem.
The terrain, oh so rugged,
Canyons, mesas and buttes,
All lead me to another,
State of mind,
This terrain of a poetic kind.
Mountains and hills,
Oh what thrills,
To scale them,
And poetically adore them.
When the ocean and the sea,
Sang their poems to me,
It seemed like nature's,
Breath was breathed into me.
All the world is a poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem