I am a tree.
Branches weighing down, sagging
My trunk warped, on the verge of breaking.
Because I did not rid
of all my crumpled leaves
(that should have left a long time ago)
and those shriveled branches
that nipped their own buds
long before
they could even flower.
Because part of me still wished
and has still not mourned enough
over fruits I couldn't bear
and seeds I'll never see
left stillborn, abandoned
even before
they could be conceived.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem