it cannot move
it is silent
it is lonely
it is forgotten
we walk past and glance-
but we turn away
it sits
and waits
for the whispering winds
for the tentative trees
for the repetitive rain
all to wake and comfort it
its only companions
are Mother Nature's children-
and it never complains that
it is forgotten
it is lonely
it is silent
it cannot move
but
it is happy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem