Old oak

Throughout the centuries, my roots have delved deep into the warm ground,

And through centuries, fierce storms have failed to tear them out,

Does the majestic summit serenely uphold the sky of the homeland,

Or does it peer through the mist in search of fleeting rays of light.

I find myself in the shadow of the chilly northern wind,

I stand at the crossroad of the east and the west,

numerous rivers of water, countless streams of light have flowed,

And numerous extinguished embers have went out...

I witnessed the crumbling of stone fortresses,

Observed the meandering rivers and towering mountains,

And beheld the creation of the giants' burial mounds,

So that they may forever dwell here as part of the earth!

Beneath me lies the warrior's sacred flame,

beneath me the remnants of the past are fading away,

I clutch the ancient crucifix chapel tightly to my chest,

bringing solace in times of darkness and inspiration for the upcoming day.

I hold and guard the subterranean life during the day.

When after all the nights a new world reborn,

those will thrive within my roots.