I mourn Eden everyday
because somewhere between there
and here,
we have forgotten that love
and innocence are a sacred thing.
The tree of my life has seemed
to have rooted itself inside of him
and has found what it has been
searching for all of these years;
exactly what it needs to grow.
Though I have found my Eden,
his tree is wilting
and I searched inside of myself
to find what makes it grow
but nothing that I have
can make it blossom.
As long as his tree is still alive,
Eden is in his sun ladened mind
and I find the last
remaining innocence there,
though he himself is wilting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
can made it blossom.....made..oops! :) if the tree of life has (seemed? to have) rooted itself in him and found what it needs to grow............why is it wilting? it's not YOUR fault is it? ? a poet note might help me understand, but it is interesting without my understanding it. thanks for sharing. :)