The Tree Poem by Ruslan Kerimov

When you planted me in fertile soil
I was a sprout weak and small
But owing to your care and toil
I grew up quickly strong and tall.

With tenderness you watered me,
You found your comfort in my shade,
And used to drink your fresh-brewed tea
As in the wind my branches swayed.

As years ran by we both grew old,
Your hair became, like clouds, grey,
We went through hardships, heat and cold,
We had both sad and happy days.

But struck by poverty you sold
Your lovely piece of fertile land,
New owner didn’t care at all
And cut me down with his brutal hand.

And when my soul left the wood
I saw sad tears run down your face
Your sorrow and despondent mood
Carved in your heart a bleeding trace.

Good-bye, my friend, for now adieu,
I’ll see you in the paradise,
With my green leaves, there I’ll shade you,
I’ll be the délight of your eyes.