Trees that are rising, with trunks fading to black, Before you were woven from wood, now of the rocks that crack. With you standing tall, and always the shade to rest my back. From then til' today I could never repack, All the sins, that you devour on track. Since long I have not wronged by the stars of that song. Maybe I should numb what was strong, Because the silence of your breath becomes flat.
With leaves of wide shape and shining colour. Reflecting the shadows and its silhouettes. Home to different creature of its lore. The furious, silent, and respectful. Like the ever changing skins of your growing fruits. From remedies, poisons, and delicacies just to fill. Giving abundances of gifts but nonetheless it is you who takes it.
Time moves forward, It is seen that yesterday is tomorrow, The ebb and flow is very evident, What was calm, Turbulently testing today, Gathering all its forces, While throwing what is wasteful and foolish.
This is a rough translation for a poem in my native country's language.