Trees
Once at lake, the sky reflected
And trees, mulberry, and walnut
And willow that stood closer to water
Waving and, danced away with their talks
And whispers, as sweet, and swift as it could.
“This, my soil…” said trees; that all shared
“Means my life, I can delve, ” they spoke as nation
Then said nut of its taste and berry, explained benefits
And willow shook as if an Arab’s Belly Dance.
The sun’s light in colours said goodbye
Then, blue-pale, became the sky
Came the moon and stars
Whisper was on and off
And in turn between them
Reminded the harp and a sitar
They played music, a life in recital
United spoke of a sharing background.
Finale was great:
“Of our past and culture…”
Standing side by side as on choir
In one voice they sang song:
“Some call us backward but…”
WE ARE PROUD…
Then listed stories and poems and prose:
THESE ARE OURS.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Whisper of trees between turn is amazing in sharing with wise imagery...