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Corot - D. H. Lawrence

The trees rise taller and taller, lifted On a subtle rush of cool grey flame That issuing out of the east has sifted The spirit from each leaf’s frame.

For the trailing, leisurely rapture of life Drifts dimly forward, easily hidden By bright leaves uttered aloud; and strife Of shapes by a hard wind ridden.

The grey, plasm-limpid, pellucid advance Of the luminous purpose of Life shines out Where lofty trees athwart-stream chance To shake flakes of its shadow about.

The subtle, steady rush of the whole Grey foam-mist of advancing Time As it silently sweeps to its somewhere, its goal, Is seen in the gossamer’s rime.

Is heard in the windless whisper of leaves, In the silent labours of men in the field, In the downward-dropping of flimsy sheaves Of cloud the rain-skies yield.

In the tapping haste of a fallen leaf, In the flapping of red roof smoke, and the small Footstepping tap of men beneath Dim trees so huge and tall.

For what can all sharp-rimmed substance but catch In a backward ripple, the wave-length, reveal For a moment the mighty direction, snatch A spark beneath the wheel!

Since Life sweeps whirling, dim and vast, Creating the channelled vein of man And leaf for its passage; a shadow cast And gone before we can scan.

Ah listen, for silence is not lonely! Imitate the magnificent trees That speak no word of their rapture, but only Breathe largely the luminous breeze.

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A Great Big Tree - Kiyoko Nagase

May I be a great big tree so big I can’t see those taking shelter under me, a deep green conical figure wrapped in serenity Just as I dangle my bare feet in the water may my roots joyfully draw from an unknown subterranean current

May I be such a great big tree that those who look at me will naturally feel peace and repose

Yet may my luxuriating branches and leaves whisper to a breeze like stray hair May they awaken before anyone else in the rosy glow of morning May their blue shadows be cast on earth spreading like a trailing lace skirt May my thoughts be kind May my thoughts be refreshing The tree will not move The tree will not speak yet may it be a ladder heavenly children ascend and descend

If someone comes and rests by me at the height of day I will provide deep shadow and infinite comfort

On a stormy day I will be even greater, more stalwart I will firmly anchor my roots in the great earth and will not sway Yet my sap will flow smoothly even my incised wounds will issue forth a refreshing scent Soon I will whisper a smiling song When night arrives I will dissolve into darkness unbeknownst to people may the song alone become invisible ripples