I like to walk in early morn,
When in full bloom I can be found.
Attached to moving vine I'm borne,
With lots of us rooted in ground.
I do walk with many a friend,
Never sure of where I might go.
I stop my walk when morn does end,
And await next morning to show.
Sometimes I walk along a fence.
Sometimes I walk along a wall.
With each morning there's the suspense
Of what new realms await my crawl.
In glory on morn walk is me,
A morning glory flower be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem