Consumed from within it becomes.
Fatigued,
are the rings at the center.
It is fatigued.
Many long roads.
Heavy the load.
Before dawn came were the dreams.
We have withstood long after.
We have died long before.
When the tallest stands heavy and is loved.
We go down to the moss covered bed.
And the shadows are gray like my bark.
It blows from the north,
then runs down south, O' my center.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem