A tree
Perfectly
A rootless
one,
Coasting
Bright
Colourful
Lights,
From apex
Edifice,
From all
Looks and
Crannies
Springing,
Calling hearts
To sneak,
In humorous
Gay of time,
Just lighting
The ghost eyes,
With brightest
Light like never
Seen prior time,
Dishing and
Sanctifying
Streets,
Keeping awake
Minds and hearts,
For the coming
Of the Son is nigh.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem