The inexhaustible earth in the grasp of all the roots of your being
And the infinite sky, with the sun, with the stars in their constellations,
Of which you lay hold with that mouth made of all your arms, with the cluster of your branches, with the clutch of all there is in you that breathes.
All the earth and all the sky, these are what you require that you may hold yourself erect!
Let me also hold myself erect! Let me not lose my soul! That essential sap, that innermost secretion of my ego, that effervescence
Which constitutes my true self, oh let me not squander that to make a useless tuft of leaves and flowers! Let me grow in my unity! Let me remain unique and erect!
But it was not to hear your murmuring that I came, O branches that now are bare mid the air opaque and nebulous!
But it is you that I would question, deep-reaching roots and that primal depth of the earth where you are nourished.
(He stands beneath the tree.—Pause of indefinite duration.
Simon (sighing, like one awakening from a dream): Let us go.