Little one, do you see how this thin tree grows in the shade of its father? Don’t do that. Do you see how this trunk turns around, always looking over its shoulder at the others? That’s hard. Do you see this old woman hollowed by fire? Do you see how this one bent down when young, then tried to rise? Do you see these two weaving their branches? Do you see this one lightning shattered who yearned an ending into his mind? Do you see these four growing in a row, where an old one fell? And this one, old enough for a lichen coat? Little one, put your hand on this trunk green in a lucky place of tall sun. Oh my little friend.