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.