In the garden of tongues, English blooms,
With petals of phrases, in countless rooms,
It whispers secrets in the night,
A symphony of words, taking flight.

From Shakespeare’s quill to modern prose,
Its rhythm flows and gently grows,
Each sentence crafted with care,
A tapestry woven, rich and rare.

Through valleys deep and mountains high,
English travels, reaching the sky,
A bridge that binds us heart to heart,
A universal work of art.

In silent libraries and bustling streets,
Its presence felt in every beat,
The English language, vast and grand,
A timeless treasure, hand in hand.