'The green leaves have come and gone
from thousand years of winds
it's branches have always changed
from a soft thornlike stick
to a tangled wood of veins
and to touched it's leaf
with an old hand
seems that its delicate fabric
has never rest for centuries
that it has no peace
from constant barrage of nature
but the golden grass and leaves
still brings hope just like
the tunes created by winds and sea.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem