There stands a tree
in a bright warm place,
pictures of you
and your beautiful face.
As the time goes on
the branches get wider,
with you as the sun
getting brighter and brighter.
The wood is pink
with big white leaves,
what lies on the ground
are all pet peeves.
Flower with petals
grow up the side
takes all the good times
for a fun ride.
When cold winter comes
the leaves are still there
because of your face
and long beautiful hair.
For the rest of time
the tree will stand
not getting any smaller
only to expand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem