Your tree of life is taking shape
Its leaves made of labels
Bearing words that you spake
It is best that you think
Of the leaves you attach
For once spoken
They hang there
You can't get them back
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So do the thoughts behind your language as for so beautiful and enlighted it gives soul to 'Your tree'/Art :) Thanks for sharing!