Founded in stone and water,
Its tough old bark deeply scored
By disputations of wind and rain.
Gargoyle limbs writhe and twist
From the trunk's immensity.
Over-arching branches
Trail long fingers of foliage,
Like cool, green blessings.
In the stained-glass windows of leaves
Birds sing praises
To the greater glory of wood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem, well penned.