A tree, so sole,
yet so familiar with all,
gives shade under its branches,
an intimate friend,
a shelter for all.

Butified by its leaves,
so green and serene,
everyone loves it,
the matured tree.

A time of season,
the tree not more alive,
it's dead and decayed,
its leaves already dried.
No one looks at it,
for it not give shelter anymore,
'It's a cursed tree! ! ', say all,
it's being hated, therefore.

Spring is here! !
now new leaves going to bloom again,
the tree shall smile again,
its friends will approach it.

It's friends, those cursed it,
while it was decayed,
during its unfortunate days,
shall play with it again,
when see its happy days.