From smoldering ruins, tender shoots arise,
The blackened earth gives birth to fragile green;
What once was lost now whispers to the skies,
A promise kept where fire has touched the scene.
Decay becomes the soil for future bloom,
And endings shape the beauty yet to come;
In every grave, a secret life finds room,
As ashes yield the light that overcomes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem