No survivor completely escapes,
A history laced with grief and/or turmoil...
That weaves to grip without leaping,
Throughout one's ancestry.
Nothing felt is kept secret when flowing through veins.
And those connected,
To those trees affected...
Become fully aware,
From where those branches grown...
Had been rooted in wombs to aid their births.
Many are nurtured to believe,
Their blossoming done from buds to reach...
Was purely assisted by Sunlight.
But there are those with senses touched,
Firmly and tied to their origins.
And their emotions are deeply cemented.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem