The mountains, valleys, and wooded glens call my name.

Should I gain any reproach or blame

Lest I, in wild ecstasy, roam far from the hearthstone of home?

The burbling voices of the rivers and brooks call to me

I breathe in the sweet aroma of their grasses; it is a very sentimental moment.

I leap and spring and pounce like a cricket released from a torment.

While my mind whirs like the hive of a bee, busy with honeyed concoctions.

I can see the starry stamens of tulip buds; there is a riot of song.

I can see deep into the heart of the high places of the sky; no death for you.

In the depth of the trees, squirrels are wire-haired monkeys on trapeze.

With the golden stars above me and brown earth below me, I lay down my head.

The wind goes on its supple tracks; animal footprints are pasted in ground.

I, a child, am utterly free. Free to twirl in ecstasy. Ecstasy without end.

For all of nature is my friend, world and time without bend.

Bush and tree; flower and bee; animal and me.