There were trees ready for
a suicide:
they had the power
to bend them to the
breaking point
and
being at the edge of the bastions
throw
spring like themselves
into the hideous depths.
one flame
arose and the trees saw
and
redder
higher
stronger
grew the flame
that was
so weak
before
and the trees read
and
the trees heard
and
the trees learned:
and
the trees
were now not ready
for the suicide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem