A man with an axe, came to cut down a tree,
Once and for all, from the ground to make it free,
To cut them into logs and then into pieces,
Dry them and finally burn them to ashes.

He came at last to cut a tree tall,
As he raised his axe, the tree gave a call,
Oh, innocent one think before you cut me,
You know not what I do for you as a tree.”

“I cast my boughs and give shade to weary travellers,
In me dwell such enchanting notes, to elate wanderers,
At night, I sing a lullaby to a sleeping baby,
I hold water and hold earth around me,
But still you have come to slay me!”

“I take in the foul air and make it pure,
Without it no man can live, I’m sure,
I bequeath my whole life to you,
You will think before you strike me, won’t you,
Or still slay me, for a disaster to view?