Every day morning
I pass through the mango tree
for the morning walk
the tree, full of green leaves
stares at me
it has grown big
but there is no flower
when shall it flower?
I ask myself
so that I can use its leaves for worship
years passed away
no sign of flowering..
perfection..a dream for the mango tree....
when will it be fulfilled.
Suddenly one spring morning
I observed:
it has flowered
oh...the tree seems to quiver with joy...
as I passed through
Oh...my dear mango tree
so patient you are
so humble you are
just grant me a fraction!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i slept beneath fruited mango tree on my vacation and waited for fruit to fall in a fish net... i called it fresh from tree when i eat it. thanks for sharing.
thank you for reading and liking..