Some strong blow
should have given you
this hard life
to rob you
your vertical figure.
While your brothers’ cups
point proud directly
to the midday sun,
Yours leans crooked and humble
towards the golden sunset.
Whatever was the reason
of your past fall,
It did not uproot your roots
grabbed firmly
on the land you love.
And although
it is more difficult grow up
with open wounds exposed
to heartless mockery,
upon achieving it,
you got stronger
and your shadow grew wider.
Do not cry more, my crooked fir,
those resin tears
of blood and regret
Do not cry more,
because with your inclined figure
you encourage the wandering walker
who has lost his way..
Your leaning silhouette
talks about the struggles
lost and vanquished
which make heroes
because there are also many of them
who die old and unnoticed
after drawing without pretensions
the most exciting epics.
© Olga Brajnovic 7-31-23
To a tall crocked fir tree in the Taconera park of Pamplona, Spain.