Num mundo diferente

The Company of Trees

 There is no king in their country
 and there is no queen
 and there are no princes vying for power
 inventing corruption.
 Just as with us many children are born
 and some will live and some will die and the country
 will continue.

 The weather will always be important.

 And there will always be room for the weak, the violets
 and the bloodroot.
 When it is cold they will be given blankets of leaves.
 When it is hot they will be given shade.

 And not out of guilt, neither for a year-end deduction
 but maybe for the cheer of their colors, their
 small flower faces.

 They are not like us.

 Some will perish to become houses or barns,
 fences and bridges.
 Others will endure past the counting of years.
 did not work well enough, was only an early stage.
 Neither do they ever have any questions to the gods—
 And none will ever speak a single word of complaint,
 as though language, after all,
 which one is the real one, and what is the plan.
 As though they have been told everything already,
 and are content.

 Mary Oliver, in BLUE HORSES (New York: Penguin, 2014)