Classic Poem

When we were small, folks taught us these precepts
Concerning trees: he'll go to Paradise
Who smothers the fire of a burning tree,
It is a sin to cut off water from a fruiting tree,
You can eat fruit to your heart's content,
It is hallowed; but God will strike you dead
If you destroy even a single fruit;
And fear God's wrath if you cut back a tree in the evening
Or if you dig around its roots.

The village is gone, and gone are the precepts!

A tree bough was heating against the cable
Making the lamp post sway
I climbed the house fence, I caught bold of the cheeky bole
It was evening! All my old lore
Came back to me, and time's misdeeds:
One mad leap down to the ground
And it lay dislocated
It shattered the lamp
And the cable was dangling
And my forehead was bleeding
But my gaze froze:
How white it was, it put me to shame
The flesh of the tree!