How mighty thou art, beautiful one?
Where does thy splendor end?
Why layest thou so silently awake?
Why doest ye dress with such sophisticated apparel?
Why doest thou tempest thee?
Ye valiant one always seek to be on top.
Thy prudence have made thee many students.
A tutor thou art, fine China.
From noble ancestry ye did built thy character.
Like rivers of many waters, thou flows with zest.
The ignited flames in thine hands are light to many.
The golden pillars which thou standeth on is a foundation to not just a few.
The soil in which ye stepeth upon is royalty.
Thy bosom are filled with the gifts of nature.
And thine eyes have seen the things no other eyes have seen before.
Have thou ever been touched? I muse.
I reckon thou has kept thy dignity!
Why is thy name China, o gorgeous one?
Is it because of thy great reputation or is it simply because thy mother has a gigantic imagination?
Thou art one, but yet so many.
I reckon that thy people are very fertile. I perceive thou art also.
Can I bargain one thing with thee, dearest one?
Can I be taught what thou hast learnt?
devon da poet
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fine-china/
