The wind rustled through
the trees, moving this
way and that
and the leaves began to
gossip. What did they speak
of I do not know. I wish
I knew as I sat in
my room
looking out of the window
at the trees bending
in agreement with the weight
of secrets that moved
through their being.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A true nature lover's thoughts! Simple diction makes me awakened to a glamorous call.Thanks for sharing.