A seed lays still no commands from anyone,
No eyes, no voice, no brain silent still,
Rain comes and goes and leaves, its reason done.
A tiny root anchors who commands,
A growth grows up and points to the sun,
More roots to feed, itself expands,
The long climb for the oak tree has begun.
Nature overseen by our all mighty God,
Another hymn of thanks to be sung
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem