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There was a clear river,
In the natural home,
And a wily man stood,
Among the woods.

He was seeing,
With a malicious eye,
Look’st at a certain place,
With a glitter on his face.

That place was much near,
To the river,
“Aye, I’ll plant it here,”
Quoth that hypocrite.

“O humble soil,
I’m a nature lover,
An’ I’ll plant my magic seed,
Because this seed I need.”

“O humane trees,
Let my seed turn into a tree,
But it requires the space of ten,
So I need to clear ten, you ken.”

He was building castles,
In the sky unlimited an’ free,
Dreaming of the fruit,
He’ll get from the magic tree.

His greedy sight was seeing,
Nothing but the magic fruit,
He cruelly cleared ten trees,
Each one from root.

Oh, look at that hypocrite,
He debarred the trees to grow,
He trailed a bundle of sins,
Exploited the trees’ right.

The tyrannous man planted it there,
The ten, at him, looked reproachfully,
As if they were saying,
“That’s not fair!”

For his seed, night an’ day he cared,
Such a sinister guard he was,
That not even an ant dared,
To come near the place.

When animals came near his seed,
He threatened ’em with his gun,
An’ the poor little creatures,
Were forced to run.

“Wherefore are you coming here?”
May’st you ken?
Don’t become my gun’s food,
Go back to your tree, burrow or den!

Earlier, in the mind of creature,
There was a common thought,
That the man hath love for nature,
But he turned out to be a hypocrite.

Such a guard he was,
He didn’t care for his own health,
He forgot that he hath a body,
In order to get wealth.

Once he was very healthy
But now he became thin,
Because of his negligence,
And his because of his sin.

Although he showed ignorance,
But still his greedy eyes flourished,
They became shinier now,
And nobody could understand how. 

An’ a happy time came,
When he was look’st with glee,
At the beautiful foliage,
Of his colossal tree.

His red fruits were twice,
The size of an apple,
“My care was nice!
As the perfect fruits are there.”

“Look at my hard work an’ dedication,
An’ look at my faculty,
I gave it proper care,
Even in this weather so sultry.

He knew that his fruits were yummy,
“Hey, I’ll sell ’em, don’t shout
They aren’t for you greedy,
You greedy hungry tummy!”

The sufferers of the ordeal,
Quoth, “O balmy winds, O dear waters,
With your help, we’ll let him feel,
The pain we'd felt.
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