Fiesta Poem by Igor Balatsky

The tree that is living inside me,
it told me the other day,
Hey listen, old man,
once we're going to die.
They will make a luxurious coffin of me
and you will be buried in it.
I hugged it and answered it smiling,
Thank you for your concern,
but you know in my will I have mentioned
that my body should be cremated.
So we both will be committed to flames.
Our nice yet so ignorant bodies
will be reduced to ashes
and the wind will blow them away
over the Indian Ocean.
That is clever! You are so wise!
said the tree that is living inside me,
heaving a sigh of relief,
clapping deciduous palms.
And I said to the tree then,
You would better become a violin,
you would better become a flute
during our lifetime
till we are both alive.
And the tree turned into the flute.
And the tree turned into the violin.
We were dancing and singing together,
having fiesta in our house.