I am the vine, and you are the branches.
John 15: 5 (CEV)
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The bare land which I borrowed is not big enough
And I plant there the innocent seeds of humanity.
If the soil is cultivated,
Then the misguided proud sky,
Why don't you pour me few drops of water to survive?
A finite cry, longing to be heard, Something very touching about this one. Warmest regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I must admit your title is apt for us in Australia at the moment. The recent heat wave has left our gardens dusty dry and dying. Your concern for the whole planet becomes you Nimal in this deeply pensive poem. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥