The little beech tree
in the forest looks up
to its family
the high crowns of wisdom
of hundreds of seasons
of the time she can not yet count
the order of the world
the time to be young
and know little
the time to be patient
to be small and to know
you're not short of anything
may eat from the toes
of the aunts
who teach you everything
Electrically
they give signals
the microbes and the threads
of fungus tell
what's going on
with fragrances and colours
are the leaves speaking
are the blossoms singing
are they calling animals
for help in case of danger
To live is performing
miracles with each other
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem