Armchild, heart of the forest's heart,
growing one, where are your roots?
Thing that seems small because it is far away,
remember being of the future.
Tall and wide, with arching branches,
child of my seed,
the time of falling is a being with out roots to absord
and the time of kindly drowning will give water and sun.
Sapling, heed not.
Comments
Windsong Says:
Wow...
That's a beautiful piece.
P.S. It's nice to hear from you again.
P.P.S. What did you translate it from?