You are not wood that shall float or sink
You are not ebony or a bit hard
You're not cork or someone to play tiddlywink
Or balsawood lost in a lumberyard.
You're not a byword for aircraft models
You cannot fly or even catch the wind…
Nor an oak carved into idols.
Yet, you sure are wooden, thick-skinned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem