The forest poem (Since this is a poem it can not be translated directly but means something similar to the following)
The Forest Appeal
Roamer, You, who pass me Don’t raise your hand at me! Cause I’m the warmth of your fire place on cold winters nights, Cause I’m the shady roof, where you can escape from the burning summer sun, My fruit quenches your thirst, I’m the pole holding your house, I’m the top of your table, I’m the bed where you rest, I’m the wood you build your fishing boat of, I’m the door of your house, The wood of your cradle, And the wood of your coffin. So Roamer, You, who pass me, Please listen to my appeal, Don’t raise your hand at me!
