I watched it float by as I stood by the stream
A piece of old wood, from an unsightly tree
A yearly performer, now broken and torn,
Its branches were bare, and the bark very worn
But deep in the grass by the side of that flow
A seed left for years, was beginning to grow
A rising young upstart, just searching for light
To replace its forefather, and continue that sight
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem