Life.
In a grove, deserted, alone,
A tall, dead tree
Blackened and afraid;
One tiny green sprig
Eyes the world from
The bark.
The lovers cling and caress,
Leaning against the
Gnarled giant plant.
Their hands interlock;
Mouths pulse with passion.
A furtive look then
A long goodbye kiss
Takes their breath away;
As tears fall quickly
Onto the small sprig below.
The evening chill causes
Shivers and they pull apart
To leave in separate cars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem