A dead tree knows__
The pain of her grim silence,
The motherly affection
For her fallen green leaves,
The sweet memory of her past:
The happy wind, the jolly sky and
The loving rainfall.
When she stands alone today
With bare clothes and jewellery,
Beauty is not reflected
On her dreary face.
She lets out a long and burning sigh
Of despair and unveils the
Torn pain has become
The black embers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem