I sit next to this rare
Cork old tree.
I hear the sound of rustling
In its leaves.
I sit beside its sadness
While seeking out its loneliness.
I will never be the same.
I will never return.
I cannot stop the time
To change continuously.
I'm unacquainted
With changes.
Time has stood itself
Near my solitude.
I realize that
I'm older than this tree.
Poem by Marieta Maglas
Time has stood itself Near my solitude..... solitude, thinking, meditation on l ife and its aspects...was it joy or sorrow that you experienced as you were sitting there...... thank you Marieta....... tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the Cork old tree with its rustling leaves. In our solitude and in our deep silence, we become the ancient soul that has stood the test of time. wonderful Poem Marieta.........10