What do the winds in the forest tracts
Whisper to while passing through,
The evening descending upon
And the chill and frost outside
Whistling the song,
Where the way leading to,
Where the journey to stop?
Is man a traveller?
How lone is the forest tract?
Does anybody live in here?
Whose is this art-work
Mystery running wild, full of vegetation
With exotic flora and fauna?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem