Tiz the life that poets muse 'bout,
Another time, another place,
The shepherding the flock - no doubt,
A world away from the rat race.
A relatively few have kept
This life passed down through family,
As modernization swept
Most away into frantic spree.
A few ideal spots do remain,
But secrets are not kept too much.
The curious cannot refrain.
Tourists may come, but please don't touch.
The shepherd, the sheep dog, the sheep,
The life poetic - what the 'bleep'!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem