"To the Wayfarer-
Ye who pass by and would raise your hand against me
Harken ere you harm me!
I am the heat of your hearth on cold winter nights,
The friendly shade screening you from the summer sun
My fruits are refreshing draughts,
Quenching your thirst as you journey on,
I am the beam that holds your house,
The board of your table,
The bed on which you lie,
And the timber that builds your boat,
I am the handle of your hoe,
The door of your homestead,
The wood of your cradle,
And the shell of your coffin.
I am the bread of kindness and the flower of beauty.
Ye who pass by, listen to my prayer; harm me not."
A notice originally found nailed to a tree in Seville, Spain and found by me reprinted at the local arboretum.
11 comments:
What a wonderful evocative poem speaking the truth of what trees are for all of us--humans, and other animals.
The bed on which you lie,
Not my bed. Mine's all metal and cloth.
It is a good poem, though.
Ahhhhh. Every word is true and meaningful. Love it.
Sage advice at so many levels.
Well...many of those values a tree represents requires that the tree be sacrificed. Like some hunters who offer a prayer of thanks to the game they kill, I wonder if there are loggers who whisper gratitude to a tree as they fell it.
That's an awfully feisty tree.
I *love* this poem Laura.
Lovely, Laura. Thank you!
How is your training going?
The poem touches me.
So touching.
My favorite prayer definitely!
I have a tree with the same poem on. I found the poem in the teachers office at the school I work.
The whole story (in both Norwegian and English)
www.hjertevarme.org
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