A green leaf from a bud
Is growing outside,
Tearing a peel - for sunlight,
To develop a visible form...
Along the veins the green blood
To feed the leaf's life runs,
Carrying the energy flow
In order to create a seed,
That after a time - will leave
Its native, so comfortable, bole.
And again for the other life
From the seed - another plant grows,
In order, that in spring time
Again a weightless leaf shows
The mystery of sunshine.
We are the leaves. We grow,
And fall down to the foot
Of the Tree of Knowledge...
When we are on the Tree -
It's hard to look down
On a brown leaf,
That turned withered
From the suffering.
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In russian:
http: //www.stihi.ru/2011/01/01/3229
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem