What do you feel while watching a tiny crippled tree?
D’you feel compasion, or d’you ignore that that you see?
A choped off tree is just a shattered life
That for a moment peered the murderous knife.

A man’s a tree, he’s turned to stone somewhere
Watching the world and wishing to be there.
But his own life does not belong to him,
All its events are woven just in one hazy dream.

This night is long, wrapped up in years
With dreams of sunshine and with dreams of tears
We’re facing death and wait for our turn,
Since we are dust and all in dust return.

We’re only toys, we’re slaves of our faith,
A tree has no defender, we have no time to wait;
A tree is not a being to suffer inside pain,
We haven’t such a soul a balance to maintain.

And even if we reach some days that smil to us
And feel the peace inside while lying on the grass,
If we believe this world is not yet a nightmare,
There’s always something that we have to beware.