Submitted by Ben Hurst.
When there is a land stretched before me
With mountains, steppes, rivers, and valleys
Of beauty such that I cannot speak
Beyond my tongue, beyond belief
How can I help but wonder and think
What else is there of all I see
That language simply cannot glean
That we can simply not conceive?
And if a man, from across the sea,
Moored his ship and stood beside me,
What words of his, what letters too,
Would he emit to misconstrue?
Photo credit: Seaport with the Embarkation of St Ursula – Claude Lorrain