There stands a tree,
That view I love to see,
Across the way,
Neath skies of grey,
It stands so splendidly.
Upon its branches rest,
Sweet birds sing morning songs,
This tree I love the best,
It's life goes on and on.
And in the afternoon sun,
I sit and think of you,
Our memories are the best,
Like the tree our love just grew.
Jayne Louise Davies
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I would like to translate this poem