Ali Jafar Oglu (Aliyev)The tree of life

The tree of Life

                                                              (A story)

A tree has grown in a hot and dry area. This tree has climbed high. There were so many leaves that there was a shadow all around. Every time the sun warmed him, he was disappointed, because no one caressed him, did not care for him.

The tree, from loneliness, considered it useless that it grew here. It dreamed that it would be better to be a small shrub, but to have tall trees nearby. For birds to sit on its branches, for people to rest in its shade.

The tree shed bitter tears. It cried so much that a transparent puddle formed around.

Days and months passed; the seasons replaced each other. The cold of winter froze the puddle, the spring rain filled it, it trembled from the autumn wind, and evaporated from the hot summer. Everything went on as usual. The tree, bored from loneliness, was disappointed, its heart aching from sadness.

Hearing a noise, the tree, startled, raised its head higher. Its heart beat with excitement, but not seeing anyone, it was disappointed.

A person was walking through the arid area. His heart was breaking from the suffocating heat. From thirst, as on the ground, cracks formed in his lips; his legs were exhausted from fatigue.

The man sat on the ground. With a heavy gaze, he looked into the distance, into endless space. Looking at the sky, he saw the galaxy. As if from the ancient beliefs of the Egyptians, the remaining, imprinted in the sky, the heavenly cow was reflected high.

How much he slept, he did not remember. The sun had risen. He saw a dark spot in the distance. He, gathering all his strength, crawled towards it.

After hard torment, he reached the circumference of the tree. The shade of the tree brought coolness to him. He, lying down, drank a lot of water from a puddle and from weakness lost his memory.

The tree was overjoyed to see the man. It stretched its branches to a puddle, and watered the face of a man with its leaves. Then, trembling in a light breeze, it gave the man breath.

The tree, the man’s watchman, did not sleep all night.

With dawn, the darkness went far away. Everything was covered with a milky colour.

The man opened his eyes. Gradually he got to his feet. He opened his arms and breathed in fresh air. After yawning a little, he raised his head up, examining the tree with his gaze.

The sadness instantly passed. A feeling of inspiration came.

The tree greeted the man with a loud voice:

-Welcome, my dear! Good morning!”

The man received the greeting of the tree;

-Good morning, my favourite tree of life! – he answered with a smile.

From these words, the soul of the tree was filled with tenderness.

Indeed, how beautiful it is to be called a tree of life!

                                                         Translated by Marjeta Shatro Rrapaj   

                   edit by Jonathan Campion 

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