A tree, he lived a life of celebrations once,
At its prime, so loud and graceful.
Loved by many like a symphony,
but still lone and standing.
He saw the changes,
the rain, the sun, wind and snow.
He waved colours at them,
In autumn, spring, summer and winter.
All the seasons hugged the tree with grace,
The birds lived on him, like their home.
He stood it all,
The weather, the feather, the time.
Children played under his dome,
He watched and shaded them.
Years unfolded, many stories where told,
And he stood silent where memories roamed.
As time unfolded,
Families blossomed, stories evolved.
He saw all Happiness, fights, sadness and togetherness,
The tree saw the life's vast grandness
Aged gracefully, hands heavy with time,
Grey hues decorated him a poetic rhyme.
Leaves fell on ground, a dance of farewell,
In each all fallen, the memory and stories were hidden.
Then came the one with an axe in hand,
The big man and Its the Time's command.
Tree was cut in pieces, each echoed the past,
Memories filled in all his fragment with few stories untold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem