Weeping willows waving freely in the air, heads bowed
slightly as if in prayer, gathering all they can from
life.
They grow and seem to multiply, sharing themselves as
their whispers flow upon the breeze, shedding tears
disappearingly.
Calling to hearts of many, their graceful eloquence
leaves a lasting impression on the mind of a child,
at forty still full of a child's wonder and curiosity,
a poem has been written in it's memory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem