High on the hills the daffodils
Make their presence known.
The birds are the luckiest creatures alive.
They know where the yellow has grown.
They see them dancing back and forth
with every springtime breeze.
They sing their song for the daffodils
as they perch in nearby trees.
The daffodils hear the birds
and know that their blooming days
have been gifted with glorious sounds
in nature's reciprocal ways.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem