“I’m thinking simple thoughts like:
what is happiness? “Look at this lonely tree
in my backyard,” I say to myself, “it’s on its way
nowhere else than into the sky.”

I get easily burned, but it’s cool
under all my leaves. Do not bother me then,
do not condemn my satisfaction
with so little.

Nature doesn’t lie just because it doesn’t
grow hastily or because it does not find
itself repeated in a reflection, of itself, with another.

Being one of nature’s single growths,
is also a life, determined by destiny
to live with the imperative lack of
the ordinary duplication.

It’s easy to be a solid rock in the deep water,
hard to get warmed up and flow with the stream.
But what a joy it is to vegetate
and dream of a warm inlet beach, a spring riverbed,
and forget that I have always risen, by any shore,
as the same ancient and familiar paradox.”