when was the first time
that i have seen a tree completely
without leaves?
and then
i had the impression that soon it
will be dead
and then it will be simply left
there
with no one to bury
what is left of it
by time
no one shall ask about why
the roots
might have rotten
in all my years of familiarity
such trees have become
a common sight and i do not ask anymore
whether they are dead
whether there is a season
when shall they learn
to grown leaves
and even show that they can have flowers
and then fruits
i dream of a night when these trees shall exude
their fragrances
even it it may have only the bland smell
of emptiness
or that some stars may come from a lost journey
and simply rest at their tops
and pretend that
it is Christmas
tonight i think of all these trees
without leaves
which have learned the way they should be
a lifestyle so to speak
they gave themselves their own names
and then they die
in peace
without a slight disturbance to the
sight of
others
some natives have become so lucky
and they know what good fire-woods are
from those dry
twigs
those cracked barks
those soundless trunks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem