When the leaves grow up
Hear you
Wandering Spirit!
The tree is tree
Only when lives free
To feed the small leaves
Not when cut, or trimmed
Or turned to timber, log
Or the wood for fire…
Hear you
Wandering Spirit!
A tree is happy
To be ash like phoenix
To give birth to the chicks.
Hear you
Wandering Spirit!
They got you in chain and
Afraid of your dead they
Locked you in a rough box
And locked it very tight
The buried at hillside
Near the victims of
Uniforms that go fight
Brainless, fully armed!
Were afraid that you rise…
Hear you
Wandering Spirit!
The time for leaves has come
To be born, grow up
And you are near by
With your knives and the gun
To seek their basic rights.
Leaves shall not be orphaned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Reminds me of ''Nothing Gold can stay'' by Robert frost. This is not only a poem but the message cuts through.
Thank you for spending time here and more thanks for such a great comment.