On my walk,
I saw this tree;
That I had met years before.
Trunk still straight.
But branches and leaves turned away.
By the constant winds that blow.
Deliberately trying to avoid me.
But why? , I thought.
I haven't come for Shelter.
Or Shade or Wood or Fruits.
Just a Glance was all that I need.
Then I will immediately leave.
May again never meet.
But it never did.
Perhaps, the force was too strong for it.
Perhaps, it hated to associate with those on the ground.
Perhaps, it just didn't like to look at me.
Perhaps, it felt, what is the use.
It's reasons, I may never know.
So, Fare thee well, I said.
And I moved on,
In my walk of life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem