If I were a fruit, I’d be a mango, sweet to the core
But you have to peel me first starting from point
Where sap flows and fruit attaches to the tree
You need to find that or I am lost to your touch
You cannot pick me too soon or I would shrivel
Or too late, I would soon fall from tree to ground
Just the right moment when dusk leaves the tree
Until daybreak when shadows flit and escape
Your hands should be steady, your eyes so bright
I would be the one to guide you and say alright
Speak not so boisterous as to wake the dead
But low and distinctly so I hear your heart...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem