A tree to me:
A swaying palm, towering oak, a yew.
But what for you?
Some weeping willow,
Or a monkey puzzle tree?
My sweeping plains,
Lush meadows, in my mind's eye.
For you -
A dusty desert under a sun-seared sky?
My visions are reshaped
By every different viewer,
To something from the sewer.
(C) Paul Butters, on Humberside,7\1\2011 at 21.05.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem