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 blame me!
I did thee nothing but good deeds.
What fault to bear if I cannot see
What lies ahead of thee and me?”

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

Thy steed shall rot, and thou shalt 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.

The Unhappy Folk: unhappyfolk.org
Telegram: unhappyfolk.t.me
Mail: msg@unhappyfolk.org

Possible Interpretation

This is an allegory about the danger of wilful ignorance cloaked in benevolence. The tree represents institutions, ideologies, or individuals who claim moral authority through good intentions whilst remaining deliberately blind to consequences. Its “deep roots” suggest entrenched power; its “shade” the superficial comfort it provides.

The victim initially trusts the tree’s offerings, only to discover the shade is poisonous—a metaphor for how seemingly protective systems can harbour hidden harm. The tree’s defence (“I can’t see / What lies ahead”) reveals the poem’s central irony: it admits ignorance whilst maintaining innocence, claiming inability to foresee harm as absolution.

The final stanza is most chilling. The tree essentially declares: “My ignorance isn’t my fault, and my good intentions absolve me.” The victim dies whilst the tree grows “higher,” suggesting how power structures perpetuate themselves regardless of the suffering they cause. The tree’s last line—“I intend well, and my roots go deep”—encapsulates the poem’s warning: deep-rooted power combined with claimed good intentions becomes an excuse for perpetual harm without accountability.