Like a rock in the swaying river
She stays, unchanged, for years
Upon years.
And with nothing to guide her way, she waits
And waits.
Like the growing oak, she stands
And she grows.
But like the tree, she is rooted to the ground.
And like the woods, she cannot move.
But still she reaches for the sky,
And she dreams.
And in her thoughts she sees,
The places she’s never been
But she knows, that someday she will go,
And until then, she’ll stay unchanged.
But someday,
Yes, someday will come for her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem