On Killing A Tree

It takes much time to kill a tree, Not a simple jab of the knife Will do it. It has grown Slowly consuming the earth, Rising out of it, feeding Upon its crust, absorbing Years of sunlight, air, water, And out of its leperous hide Sprouting leaves. So hack and chop But this alone wont do it. Not so much pain will do it. The bleeding bark will heal And from close to the ground Will rise curled green twigs, Miniature boughs Which if unchecked will expand again To former size. No, The root is to be pulled out - Out of the anchoring earth; It is to be roped, tied, And pulled out - snapped out Or pulled out entirely, Out from the earth-cave, And the strength of the tree exposed, The source, white and wet, The most sensitive, hidden For years inside the earth. Then the matter Of scorching and choking In sun and air, Browning, hardening, Twisting, withering, And then it is done. (From POEMS, published by Nissim Ezekiel, Bombay 1966)