I am a river-bed that’s dry for long;
There was no rain in the mountains up-stream;
Neither is there melting of snow, bird-song;
Utterly shattered is my watery-dream.
I am a barren desert formed from ground;
My lips are parched as rains can never come;
My verdure gone, men look at me dumbfound;
A sea of sand, I cannot one welcome.
I am a tree with leaves and no flowers;
I am a tree with flowers, yet no fruit;
I have not changed despite many showers;
Oh, how I wish I could sever my root.
But live I must despite my barren life!
For my soul’s sake, suffer I must more strife.
7-1-2002 by Dr John Celes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem