A sapling grew beneath a glade,
of an ancient grand old Banyan tree;
It thrived within the softest shade,
to spring forth strong and wild and free.
Its tender shoots were golden green;
It turned towards the warm sunlight,
that trickled down through leafy screen,
like streams of starbeams in the night.
The Banyan tree bowed low to bend
and part its branches gently wide;
To let the light flow without end,
that its sapling might not be denied.
And lo, the sapling drenched with light,
sprung forth to flourish and to grow;
Thriving in unemcumbered delight,
over the Banyan tree below...
And so, we must too make way for light
to let young ones take fast first flight.
©
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem