And they are too living entity
They too whisper, love and even sing
They even decorate themselves
Being spellbound I look at them
Whenever there's a little time
I go out for a day or two
And spend the time with their shade and fragrance
It rejuvenates me
My heart tries to become like them
I feel their sublimity
And crave to be as great as them
When I come back towards home again
By the sawmill by the road
A deep pang pierces me
Not a graveyard did so more
I look at myself
And see I'm surrounded by a few names
Surprisingly all their names are 'Greed'
And they are greedy for boles!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem