The tree of wisdom,
once proud and tall,
now a shadow of its former self.
Amber tears roll down its trunk,
falling to the now baren ground.
Knowledge once sought far and wide,
is now forsaken.
In this desolate place,
the great tree of knowledge,
is left to die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
knowledge of the physical objects grows infinite shoots by the hour....its the spiritual tree thats gort the clothe line and debris under it...with dirt laundry hung around it....probably your fantastic lines are a pointer to that very well written cheers