trees [Theme] Page 9

Wind blowing why? Because trees sway!

Pine trees obstruct the light,
And it gets dark at eight...
However, I have no complaints
Not one of the pine trees.
In the twilight of the trees beauty
Even stately,
I don't even open height,
And began it.
Sun, I do not see will not see
Even the azure sky.
And though the summer by the calendar,
In the picture the autumn.

I remember. We played there. Very cool, I took a walk after a concert in Gorky Park. I was just on the next morning woke up under a tree on Tverskaya.

See this grass? She is happy to serve all, occupying the unenviable position - beneath our feet. Whenever she comes, she comes out to serve again. She needed to learn humility. See that tree? It patiently endure the scorching summer heat, and itself gives us shade. It endures the bitter cold, supplying us with firewood so we warmed up it may idle for several months without a drop of moisture, at the same time bringing people juicy fruits to quench thirst, - and all this without a single complaint! We need to learn patience from the tree. Have to become humbler than a blade of grass, more tolerant than a tree, to show sincere respect for others and not expect any respect in return.

We are the roots of the tree in any way you bloom
Paint good luck!
Yes, but remember that the difference between us
What's new in spring sheet new people,
But if the root will be dried, -
Will not tree, not you.

Of course, this is clear, and the child:
Trees moving - alas - can't
As moving animals and people.
But they all his life to grow,
And if you reach their tops
The limit approved by the Nature
The roots continue to develop
And delve into the native land.
The people behind the trees
When would their soul and not the mind,
Which grow until death.
Although, unfortunately, not all people.

For me often there is no difference between people and trees. Sweeter than the fruit hanging from the branches, I include only those that swing over my Desire.

In forest trees, root,
They have the same slow dreams
They sing in one concordant chorus,
Green dream earth living sea.
But in the woods I can't forget:
Foreign river on the muddy banks,
Alone, bitter and passionate,
With the high winds, says ash.

The tree, something which only it can't... you can paint nature, stretches out the shadow, usypal the earth with fruit. Or becomes the realm of children's games - a celestial world where you can climb, to play, to hang on hand... a Magnificent structure that carries food and joy, that is a tree. But above all, trees are a source of life - giving cool air to the lungs and the gentle rustling, which coddles your ears and lulls you at night when you're lying in a snow-white bed.

Ravishing bare branches dangle in the wind.
They know that I'm alive and I keep secrets
They see that exhausted and lost a lot of blood.
But still not say anything, obediently dangling crown.

From the waste pits, where the meadow color
The oak is ugly, old.
Full of holes - lightning storms and strikes.
Thorns and nettles are the black wall.
<...>
What I think, oak, you are in a time of bad weather
The darkness on the edge? About stories Kostsov
In the break of day: they have a jug ready
And around the rest of the spit and shoots?
Or do you think, how far the day
The man was hanged in the crown of your:
He legs bucked, clenching the noose stronger
And the language was out of his mouth, like a shadow?

Quicker than zebras you sometimes
mobile Meridian
your spine beneath the crust
ringing mockingly and weird.
Not your fruit to pluck,
and let him remember all poets:
here is hidden the sea surface
here fell asleep comet.
Fish wiser than you, and light,
as the possibility of your movements
all poems and poetry
in the foliage you're hiding objections.

Trunk loggers knocked over barrel.
So in the fall of visible nests of bird -
We have no place to hide: their work
We gave the forest a new guise...
<...>
The end of the work day, our completed
And we believe ring, those for the year
Increasing the trunk - drunk with a resin;
And the silver pine tart crown
Dispersed - brittle under foot...

Many of these trees were my friends, I had known from nut and acorn.
I'm sorry, Treebeard.
They were all alive. Saruman!.. Who does not like the wizard know that?
For such a betrayal is not found no curse in Elvish, nor endcom nor the human language.