A junco is sitting on the bird feeder,
Thoughts of warm weather enter my mind,
Though the winter winds are blustery,
I know that Spring is not far behind.
Though the sun is still hiding
Behind the dark, gloomy clouds drifting low,
I see pink and white blossoms in the treetops,
And colorful flowers pushing through the snow.
Succulent vegetation cover the meadows,
A variety of wildflowers on the hill,
Dreams of sunshine and elaborate gardens
In the midst of the late winter's chill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful poem and the word power is also great.