When I see
The naked branches of trees
Pointing like flames into smokey grey sky
It makes me wish I was where the birds fly
To part with cold, wind, ice, and snow
and escape the streetlights' glow
like one of the martyrs whose arms turned to wings
in a land where no man can act as king
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good start with a nice poem, Phil M. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.