O Free Soul, you giver of comfort to me,
Your arms, in profusion of red, a must see!
In the sorching sun, unfazed your greenery.
Flitting guests in your arms, sing their litany.
On you the mantle of diamante rests easily.
You the giver, Nays, not your nature be,
And, then begins the magic for sore eyes to see.
No rustling, no shuffling, .Who disrupts the harmony?
The wind! Without warning - Here to proclaim it's sovereignty
You were ready for the force as it whistles and sings.
Your arms unfurl to welcome this
Powerful entity.
You accept them all, so compliant you seem.
Your rhythm, It's song; Your arms sway gracefully.
You have stood firm and let the Seasons be.
From You, I've learnt, to watch and pliable be.
Gracefully, in rhythm, I sway like you, O
tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem