'Deforestation'
'O' not every virgin forest, is timid like a dove,
Assent's today to let me know, climbs below.
Crowned are you and made achieved a woman,
proud and knowing.
l to love In all its forms, fine you are each work of art.
I to a long time in given you new the feelings and
beings of quivers only never they to match.
Let us/both cherish your hidden secret parts to me\you.
And turn them into a soft and beautiful collection
once extinct,
made anew between and the butterflies.
That such trees with foresight can draw aside
the affectionate parts.
And when they meet that door.
Whom rests through the burrow that it meets
and stretches forth the earth and once again it's filled.
Then I will cherish and rub and join it so that I collect the
will to pluck each green, blade of grass.
And make sun flowers great such a fire among,
green foam, brown eye.
And sprinkle,
growing gardens with water, spring and April.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem