Inside the fog that encloses trees, they undergo the robbing of their leaves... Thrown into confusion by a slow oxidation, and humiliated by the sap's withdrawal for the sake of the flowers and fruits, the leaves, following the hot spells of August, cling less anyway.
The up-and-down tunnels inside the bark deepen, and guide the moisture down to earth so as to break off with the animated parts of the tree.
The flowers are scattered, the fruits taken away. This giving up of their more animated parts, and even of parts of their body, has become, since their earliest days, a familiar practice for trees.
~ Francis Ponge.
translation by Robert Bly
from New of the Universe
- poems of the twofold world
from New of the Universe
- poems of the twofold world
