A wild tree grows amongst the broken stones
And rocky land: I wonder how at all?
Its greenish fruits make nests for ants and drones;
With natural glue, they weave it like a wall.
With time, they bend and twist the flattened fruits;
A cozy nest gets made that lasts for long;
And when it dries, switch on to newer shoots;
They guard their larvae with a marching song.
Though God grows trees for ants/bees to make nests,
Yet, man fears God may not him well provide;
But human beings are God’s heavenly guests;
And God is our Master, Friend and our Guide.
What love exits the heart that made us all!
And longs to take us back ev’r since our fall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem