Once upon a time I was asking a tree:

“ Tree, how is it like to be a tree?”

How is it like to be a tree?

Once upon a time I was asking a tree:

“ Tree, how is it like to be a tree?”

“You are probably joking,” said the tree.

“ No, no…” I said,

“Seriously, is it good or is it bad?”

“Bad?” the tree was wondering… “Why?”

“ Do you like to be stuck in the ground the whole week?”

“I’m not stuck. I’m rooted”.

“Don’t you ever want to go and visit friends?

Or to see what’s going on in some other places?”

“I don’t need to move,

The birds sing for me constantly,

Butterflies kiss me,

The wind stroke me

And my eyes can see the whole horizon”.

“How about at night, when everyone is asleep.

 Then what?”

“At night I listen to the silence…

I hear the land breathing,

I hear the fruits ripening,

I hear the dew fall,

Inside my branches the young birds are sleeping

And I watch them sleeping”.

“I love you tree”’ I said.

I went to my garden

And I planted a tree

facing my window.