“What is Nature?” one may ask.
The sun and the moon in their eternal dance,
The bountiful green in a sea of grass,
Or a flash of flowers,
Their colours (colors?) bright and fast.

Is it the brotherhood of silent trees?
Sheltering any creature, demanding no fee.
The old mountains, keeping their silent watches,
These gray-beards, that see the coming and going of ages.

The youthful rivers, with their joys and pace,
Running on and on till they reach their mother’s embrace.
Or perhaps it’s the birds, the beasts and the bees,
Variety as boundless as the sea.

Nature is whatever there is to see,
What has come and what is to be.
Nature is everything, leaving nothing else to say,
So protect it, to see the glimpse of another day.