Good trees wake up to go to work,
look for dreams and bread,
grown among children and emotions.
They swim in tears but get up everyday
fighting against walls,
like thunders in the storm.
Their branches remain.
Good trees never die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Good trees wake up to go to work, ' that's correct, patrick. this is a great product of your right brain. keep on!