Murky sky
the high wind tears
roots and branches
In the ambulance
the first cry of life.
tanka by Vali Iancu from Haiku: Magazine of Romanian – Japanese Relationships (2006), translated by Vasile Moldovan
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Samuel Gardner
I who kept the greenhouse,
Lover of trees and flowers,
Oft in life saw this umbrageous elm,
Measuring its generous branches with my eye,
And listened to its rejoicing leaves
Lovingly patting each other
With sweet aeolian whispers.
And well they might:
For the roots had grown so wide and deep
That the soil of the hill could not withhold
Aught of its virtue, enriched by rain,
And warmed by the sun;
But yielded it all to the thrifty roots,
Through which it was drawn and whirled to the trunk,
And thence to the branches, and into the leaves,
Wherefrom the breeze took life and sang.
Now I, an under-tenant of the earth, can see
That the branches of a tree
Spread no wider than its roots.
And how shall the soul of a man
Be larger than the life he has lived?
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Leaves Turning Grey
Like a carcass lays, an ancient tree,
he tried to pray, through celestial seas,
but his spirit flew just like a bee.
Everyday he gazed at crying clouds,
the wind through his branches was so loud.
He looked for listening ears
as he stood in a sea of tears.
O tree, do you still wade?
Why have you lost your will to change?
O tree, leaves turning grey,
your roots have lost their range.
But how can one ask for help,
when you're not helping yourself?
And so this tree founded on sand,
with the wind tumbled to land.
He's an arboreal fool,
in a world that pulls
his heart and blood apart.
O tree, you've lost your blood,
your dead branches lay in the mud.
O tree, leaves turning grey,
your roots in such ground won't stay.
poem by Soren Valentine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roots are the branches down in the earth. Branches are roots in the air.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Silvia Velea
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Roots are the branches down in the earth. Branches are roots in the air.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Divine Tree
In my mind I see perched upon a rocky hill
Standing firm a silhouetted tree so strong and still
Its roots extend well below the turf
Reaching deep to the centre of the earth
Its sprawling branches stretch in a canopy above
High into the sky to heaven where there’s much love
This tree is magical and a symbol for us to see
As it bears fruit, good things given by divinity
Of love compassion, peace and self awareness
To visualise the tree is a privilege I confess
But all can see if they search enough
Even though the mist at times make viability tough
The wind of your thought in its branches whisper through
And brings forth its fruit for those that stay true
And if sometimes when you try to climb to its branches on high
When life seems touch and you really have to try
The branch it may break and then you may fall
But the tree will still stand it stays there for us all
And then you must try once again you see
Each time you get further higher in the great tree
And each time you make a higher ascent
You get higher into its canopy to Heaven sent
No Tree Can Stand Tall Without Roots Spread!
Every seed sends roots first,
Finding for soil and ground
where it can stand firm and tall,
stand firm and tall if roots go
deep,
Spread wide to find The sap! single cell that carry life,
Give life to cells and tissues,
Shoot, barks, branches and
leaves,
feed the leaves exposing leaves
to light, Visible tree stands on exposed
roots, not roots visible, Man made boundaries, fence and
compound,
Can't prevent or limit roots or
branches,
Sometimes absorbing soil here,
Branch will extent to neighbouring house,
How one can limit the nature,
or confine growing tree to
narrow circle drawn by man?
So is every life on Earth!
Mankind is like forest of different trees,
Yet all roots of autotrophic trees
deep in the soil,
Only parasitic have those roots,
pierce other tree's heart! Dive deep into yourself,
O man! Can you survive without
Your roots?
know how you are here,
Is it the mortal parent brought
you here, Or your fate,
Only be grateful to their love and
care forever!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Or Existence
look at you
you take pride of myriad leaves
of branching twigs
of a sturdy trunk
you are saying you are
well rooted
and strong and no
wind is good enough
to uproot you
look at me
i have no roots
i am bald for i have not
a single leaf
from my imaginary
branches
from my twigs which you say
do not exist at all
you laugh and take pride
with what you are
and what you own andwhat you keep
i am invisible and i have no word
that i own
i am not even a wind
since i do not touch your leaf
and cannot let you feel
i do not doubt that it is my mere silence
that horrifies you
and i thank myself
for just being this way
i have no name
i have no self
i merely pass by
and i do not come
back
and so beyond myself and all these
you are nothing too
as i perceived myself to be
not a wind not a sound
nothing about roots
or existence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Tree
Against a clear and deep blue sky,
One tree stretched tall, its branches high,
And stiffly they, of movement none,
Stood true and straight, their course to run.
The wind it whistled strong, and shrilled
Between those branches, stiff and chilled,
But not one twig could it but sway,
And having tried, swept on its way.
Against a clear and deep blue sky,
One tree stretched tall, its branches high,
And with great dignity, it kept its stance,
No wind would ever make it dance.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tree
My life is a tree,
Yoke-fellow of the earth;
Pledged,
By roots too deep for remembrance,
To stand hard against the storm,
To fill by Place.
(But high in the branches of my green tree there is a wild
bird singing:
Wind-free are the wings of my bird: she hath built no
mortal nest.)
poem by Karle Wilson Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The ambulance outside.
Can you see that ambulance outside?
I suppose you wonder what it doing there?
Bet you think what's the nutter done now?
She's a right one her.
Thats what they all think.
She's an attention seeker and she's nuts.
It's what everybody thinks about me.
But if you look into my eyes.
You'll see a life time of pain.
The smile I wore was a disguise.
So what's that ambulance doing outside?
The nutter slashed her arms.
She killed her self.
So that ambulance outside,
Has come to take the nutter away.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Ambulance
so that ambulance just went by
and if you were high
the flashing lights would be a show
red as the blood she spilled
red enough to let her go
she filled in the outlines with her nails
just as red as she
then there was a red circus, for sale
as she red as she would be
and the fire was just so
that the red blazes burned her eyes
i think it was the red that let her go
like the red from her eyes after a person cries
so red, so real, from wrist to lights
so red, everytime, even in the night
shes like the savior
or the sacrafice
her nails, or the nails of the cross?
was it it the cross on the red ambulance
with the red lights?
or was it the cross of the savior, the sacrifice
was it all red every night?
is this a remake or the living
from the wrists
on the nails
where the lights
on the ambulance
with the cross
of the savior
with the nails
on the wrists
in the ambulance
with the cross
of the savior
red from the nails
on the wrists
that lay in the ambulance
the flashing red lights
near the cross
of the savior?
the sacrifice?
in the wrists
red with nails
on the cross
of savior or the saved?
ambulance
or cross
the wrists
the nails
the lights
the ambulance
the cross
the savior
with all the red
poem by Kathryn Garner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Root To Branches
Words get written. Words get twisted.
Old meanings move in the drift of time.
Lift the flickering torches. See gentle shadows change
the features of the faces cut in unmoving stone.
Bad mouth on a prayer day, hope no one's listening.
Roots down in the wet clay, branches glistening.
True disciples carrying that message
to colour just a little with their personal touch.
Home-spun fancy weavers and naked half-believers --
Crusades and creeds descend like fiery flakes of snow.
Bad mouth on a prayer day, hope no one's listening.
Roots down in the wet clay, branches glistening.
In wet and windy priest-holes. Grand in vast cathedrals.
High on lofty minarets or in the temples of doom.
I hope the old man's got his face on.
He'd better be some quick change artist.
Suffer little children to make their minds up soon.
Bad mouth on a prayer day, hope no one's listening.
Roots down in the wet clay, branches glistening.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roots To Branches
Words get written. words get twisted.
Old meanings move in the drift of time.
Lift the flickering torches. see gentle shadows change
The features of the faces cut in unmoving stone.
Bad mouth on a prayer day, hope no ones listening.
Roots down in the wet clay, branches glistening.
True disciples carrying that message
To colour just a little with their personal touch.
Home-spun fancy weavers and naked half-believers --
Crusades and creeds descend like fiery flakes of snow.
Bad mouth on a prayer day, hope no ones listening.
Roots down in the wet clay, branches glistening.
In wet and windy priest-holes. grand in vast cathedrals.
High on lofty minarets or in the temples of doom.
I hope the old mans got his face on.
Hed better be some quick change artist.
Suffer little children to make their minds up soon.
Bad mouth on a prayer day, hope no ones listening.
Roots down in the wet clay, branches glistening.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why are you so troubled? [Ce te legeni?]
– "Why are you so troubled, forest?
There's no wind and there's no rain
Yet your branches are in pain".
– "Yes, I'm troubled, you know why?
'Cause my life is passing by
Days are shrinking, nights are growing
And my leaves are quickly falling.
Wind is blowing from the bay
Chasing singing birds away
Wind is blowing without fear
Summer's gone, winter is here.
How could I avoid to bow
When the birds are leaving now!
Over branches, in the sky
Swallow flocks are flying high
And I'm watching them go by
Knowing that my hope will die.
And are passing all the day
Darkening the airy way,
And like seconds they are flying
With their wings the wind defying.
In their wake, I remain numb
Whitered and a little dumb
Only with my own desire
Which is burning me like fire!"
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roooaaaaaahh
I believe
In Our Fate
We Don't Need To Fake
It's All We Wanna Be
Watch Me Freeeaaak !!
I Say
We're Growing Every Day
Getting Stronger In Every Way
I'll Take You To A Place
Where We Shall Find Our
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Roots Bloody Roots
Rain
Bring Me The Strength
Is Breeding Me This Way
To Get To Another Day
And All I Want To See
Set Us Free
Why
Can't You See
Can't You Feel
This Is Real
Ahhh
I Pray
We Don't Need To Change
Our Ways To Be Saved
That All We Wanna Be
Watch Us Freak
song performed by by Sepultura
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blooming Love Tree
Our roots are deeply anchored
in the unmovable love's soil,
We grew together, and the blizzards of life could not destroy our embrace,
The sharp frost could not freeze our tears,
and the deep, rough, hateful cuts could not take away our smiles.
Whispers of love feed our branches and leaves,
and we drink daily from the sap of endless passion.
Sun breathes on our one-trunk,
warmth and light,
Under its caressing, we dance a silent old tango,
forgetting all the past seasons,
keeping only the good memories and dreaming of the new Spring.
We extend our branches as hands in prayers toward heaven,
We touch angels' wings each night and sing,
with the stars, a song of gratitude.
We bloom heart-shaped love red flowers because
our roots are deeply anchored in the unmovable love's soil.
poem by Marius Alexandru
Submitted by Marius Alexandru
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Tree Speaks
I
paint the sky
with my branches,
I fortify the soil with
my roots, I fill the air
with oxygen, for a million
years I have given you the reason
and the resources to exist,
my branches never kill One another,
my roots never tell my fruits: “I owe you”.
You have butchered, burned and demolished me,
and I have no desire to reciprocate, in lieu,
I have continued to give you more oxygen
and food and never retaliate, I wish
you would treat one another like
I have treated you for years.
Stop over and
give me
a hug sometimes.
poem by Ibrahim Ibn Salma
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Jam..
On the road
Sound horn
Running ambulance...
Jam on the road
Many buses
Bycycles
Twoweller's
Car's
Stoped ther...
Ambulance
Also stoped...
Patient was
Critical stage
In side the ambulance...
Road way was
Not clear...
O2 cylinder
was emty;
patient respration
Was very fast...
The road way
Clear ambulance
Move very fast...
But;
Patient was serieas
On the ambulance...
Sound horn only
Shouting
Way for the road
Patient was died...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Roots
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
I and I are the roots
Some are the dry wood
Fe catch up the fire
Whoa, lo ok at that
They need some dry wood
To cook up the raw food
Whoa, look at that
I got to survive
Inna dis man maniac downpression
Got to survive
In iration, yeah
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Remember that I and I are the roots
Some are wolf
Inna sheeps clothing
Whoa, look at that
Many are called
But only a few are chosen
Whoa, look at that
Nothing that dividers can do
Cant seperate us from our father
Whoa, look at that
You see, blood is thicker than water
Whoa, look at that
Got to survive
Inna disyah ghetto, yeah
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Remember that I and I are the roots
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Whoa, I and I are the roots
Some are leaves
While some are branches
But remember I and I are the roots
Some are dry wood
Fe catch up the fire
Whoa, look at that
Got to survive
Inna dis man maniac downpression
Got to survive
In iration
Roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Hey, I and I are the roots
Ooh we, roots natty roots
Dread binghi dread
Oh yeah, I and I are the roots
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dedication: To M. C. M. C.
THE well-
They come to it and take
Their cupful or their palmful out of it.
The well-
Stones are around it, and an elder bush
Is there; a high rowan tree; and so
The well is marked.
Who knows
Whence come the waters? Through what passages
Beneath? From what high tors
Where forests are? Forests dripping rain!
Branches pouring to the ground; trunks, barks, roots,
Letting the streamlets down: through the dark earth
The water flows, and in that secret flood
That's called a spring, that finds this little hollow.
Who knows
Whence come the waters that fill cup and palm?
Sweetheart and comrade, I give you
The waters' marches and the forest's bound,
The valley-filling cloud, the trees that set
The rains beneath their roots, out of this well.
poem by Padraic Colum
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