树

Trees

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed

Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy（多叶的）arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair,

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;,

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.