Matthias

"The tree"
A translation of Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson's
"Treet"
Original: Here

The exotic stood ready with leaves and with buds.
“Shall I take them?” the cold said, no question of bids.
“No, please not, dear, let everything be
until flowers by God are set free!”
said the tree, as it trembled by fear for the duds.

The exotic got flowers, by birds announced clear.
“Shall I take them?” the wind said, assured in the air.
“No, please not, dear, let everything be
until berries by God are set free!”
said the tree, as it trembled by thought of the care.

The exotic got berries, the sunshine knows how.
“Shall I take them?” the girl said, desirous by now.
“Yes please do, dear, you can take as much
as you want of the being as such!”
said the tree, as it offered the uberous bough.