Leaves

Deep beneath dove the roots,
The Earth itself and entangled,
Strong and plump as they shoot,
The mighty tree rises hardened.

“No tree is mightier than I am,
No tree can bear what I can tell.
On solid ground I stand and chant:
No harm comes out of my good will.

Come, rest and take shade
By my leaves and lie thee still.
Don’t mind me casting ill charades.
My roots are solid and I mean well.”

The shade was there,
And moonlight fell,
No pain to spare;
It’s a smoke rose to kill.

“Cursed be thee, treacherous tree!
Your shade has poisoned me!
I took your fruits and roped your leaves.
I made my deathbed and killed my steed.”

“Ungrateful Fool, don’t thou blame me!
I did thee nothing but good deeds.
What fault to bear if I can’t see
What lies ahead of thee and me?”

How darest thou question me?
Wherein my good will showers thee.
You bathed in the ignorance of my sea,
And I laid my kindness upon thee.

Thy steed shall rot, and thou shall die.
My leaves grow higher and more high.
For I’m ignorant, and thou art like me,
But I intend well, and my roots go deep.”

Such there is Night، not Night as ours—Unhappy Folk
— J.R.R. Tolkien.

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