Bred in a stubborn land,
this hedge of hawthorn grabs frozen soil,
with clenched claw roots.
Its trunks- thick, twisted, gnarled hide-
rough as an elephant's skin.
Its twigs, stubby as shorn corn,
thorns interlock like rutting stag's antlers.
Nature's barbwire fence, uprooted
by neither wind nor storm.
Its softened face wears small white flowers
in green hair- harbinger of spring lambs,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem