The trees have been watered down
And you haven't been the earth loved you
More than anything but no leaves are sprouting
No marks are making home on the surface of your skin
The water drips, you're soaking
And upon facing the sun
Something is still missing
I tell you, child the leaves aren't coming
It is wings you're growing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem