all your leaves
are dead
the strong winds
blow them all
away from you
in extreme heat
your fingers pray to
the clouds
in surrender
today i am living
what shall i tell you?
i may have feet
i may have the mind
yet i feel just like you
to the many places
i have gone
i have not really
moved out
even for once
i am rooted to you
in the desert of
my heart
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem