TRANSPLANT the beauteous tree! <br />Gardener, it gives me pain; <br />A happier resting-place <br />Its trunk deserved. <br /> <br />Yet the strength of its nature <br />To Earth's exhausting avarice, <br />To Air's destructive inroads, <br />An antidote opposed. <br /> <br />See how it in springtime <br />Coins its pale green leaves! <br />Their orange-fragrance <br />Poisons each flyblow straight. <br /> <br />The caterpillar's tooth <br />Is blunted by them; <br />With silv'ry hues they gleam <br />In the bright sunshine, <br /> <br />Its twigs the maiden <br />Fain would twine in <br />Her bridal-garland; <br />Youths its fruit are seeking. <br /> <br />See, the autumn cometh! <br />The caterpillar <br />Sighs to the crafty spider,-- <br />Sighs that the tree will not fade. <br /> <br />Hov'ring thither <br />From out her yew-tree dwelling, <br />The gaudy foe advances <br />Against the kindly tree, <br /> <br />And cannot hurt it, <br />But the more artful one <br />Defiles with nauseous venom <br />Its silver leaves; <br /> <br />And sees with triumph <br />How the maiden shudders, <br />The youth, how mourns he, <br />On passing by. <br /> <br />Transplant the beauteous tree! <br />Gardener, it gives me pain; <br />Tree, thank the gardener <br />Who moves thee hence!<br /><br />Johann Wolfgang von Goethe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-my-friend-ode-i/
