The Aging Tree
Your sharp blade, your crushing strikes, O axe! Cut me not!
Allow my life reach its climax, cut me not, cut me not!
My feeble life’s still in my body’s confines
My difficult breathing under the canopy of skies
No sparkle of hope in my heart shines
I am lonely and sad, in my eyes nothing but despair lies
The wine of moonlight doesn't filter through my branch's sieve
The fireflies illuminate not my lonely dark nights
Chicks ‘ave flown; on my bow birds their deserted nests leave
No squirrel on my trunk, for its mate fights
No butterfly dances on my arms bare
No child builds earthen castles on my feet
A wanderer no more gets my shade’s care
Soon I’ll myself fall and destiny meet
A flash back of my deprived, neglected childhood
Wasn’t I self-sprouting on a rugged desolate land?
Not behind my upbringing a caring gardener stood
Fierce winds and lightning lashed me unrestrained
Upon me fell the rays of the burning sun enraged
Inflicting wounds, ripping my bark and burning tender skin
To destroy me was the object that kept each one engaged
Clinging to the breast of my mother-earth suckling I begin
Lovingly the mother-earth held me to her bosom tight
Monstrous was the cruelty and tyranny unleashed
The cyclone of adversities engaged me continually in fight
Every dagger pointing at me, every sword unsheathed
Thus, I grew up as a full-blown luscious tree
The clouds welcomed my adolescence unfurling their hairs
On my leaves the raindrops engaged in a dancing spree
Not one from the host of trees my height and beauty bears
But, now isn’t the time to talk about the olden days
The claws of time mauled my physique, my dreams and my thought
Listen to what my every sinking pulse prays
Cut me not, O axe! Cut me not, cut me not.
Copyright © Mohammad Yamin | Year Posted 2007
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