A tree is made to live in peace in the color of day and in friendship with the sun,
the wind and the rain.
Its roots plunge in the fat fermentation of the soil,
sucking in its elemental humors, its fortifying juices.
Trees always seem lost in a great tranquil dream.
The dark rising sap makes them groan in the warm afternoons.
A tree is a living being that knows the course of the clouds
and presses the storms because it is full of birds’ nests.
- Jacques Roumain