My country, I can’t stop exalting you!
Your Caribbean winds, your vibrant blue sky,
And the mists that tiptoe down from
the tall and emerald-green mountains
gently covering my town with a blanket.
The lush hill to climb! To go up the mountain bluff!
And see the expanse of the valley below,
From where the Red-tailed Hawk soars higher and higher.
My country, my country, I can’t get enough of you!
Land of the Taíno, where history began on the island;
Here I stand in awe, my vision reaching far—
Lord, I do admire how you made my country so
beautiful; I can’t explain it—the beauty of it
all displayed before me in splendor;
the brilliant red color of Flor de Maga adorns the view,
Please, let me see more of it.
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Author:
rrodriguez (
Offline) - Published: September 18th, 2024 18:53
- Comment from author about the poem: I'm from Puerto Rico. I live in a small town named Sabana Grande, where the mountains stand tall, and the flora is spectacular.
- Category: Nature
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments2
How fortunate you are to live in such beautiful surroundings. You took me there in thought flight. Wonderful description. A poem much enjoyed. Thank you.
A beautiful picture you pain and a love for the land that I can feel. Maybe because I live in places that sound so similar butIcan feel your love for this place.
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