My roots,
originally firm,
are snapping under the pressure.
My branches are breaking, I can no longer hold them…
I used to care and love for them with my life
But now the wind's too strong to fight
I used to have bark which glistened in the sunlight.
But now all I am now is a rotting, old log with peeling bark.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem