Can you find my tree
Its the one in the back
with the broken limbs and dry bark
Its the one with dead roots
The leaves have long since vanished
They reaped then flew in the wind
forever not to be found
My tree is the one in the back
seperated from the others
lonley and desolate
The joy of seperation
The joy of exile
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem