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Click hereTree does not live.
Tree has no life,
no forceful nature,
no kind in strife.
Unbound, by roots alone.
By root alone,
Tree only groans.
A life is made of fire.
Kindled with wet soil,
breathed in the wind,
breathed out the breath.
Tree is soon to live.
A fire-wind is coming.
Out of ether seeds a grove.
A nut is soon to fall.
A pine about to burn.
Tree is glad to go,
glad to live,
shade forth give.
Dying from the nut,
grey begins the grove.