THE TREE OF THE RIDGE

Pedro Jerônimo Vianna de Faria

photography

The tree of the ridge Augusto dos Anjos — The trees, my son!?... Trees do not have souls! That tree is standing in the way… And we must be cut it down, my son, Or I will live into no calm old age! — Father, why does your anger grow and grow? Do you not see the brightness all around? God gave souls to the cedar… to the jonquil… That tree, my father!, that tree bears my soul! — He said – and then he kneeled down in prayer: «Do not kill the tree, father, for my sake!» But the tree, watching over the ridge its home, Quivered at the blows of the brutal axe. The sad boy fell, arms tight around the trunk, And never again stood upon the earth!

Translated by Chris Daniels.

This translation was made for Jero, and is dedicated to him, in friendship and fellow-feeling.

© Pedro Jerônimo Vianna de Faria 2016