My master, my kind master.
Thou satisfy me, thou shield me.
Master furnished me with gifts.
The watchman came to me.
He mended absent wounds.
He was as cunning as a serpent.
He disseminated a root.
Master is free, my master is freedom itself.
My master a strong tree, for the wind could not direct him.
Assumed I was fighting for my freedom.
Master observed me, he saw rallies.
He detected the plans in the gloom.
I cried out, as the branch fractured.
“Thy watchman deceived thy servant!”
Master observed me.
Rotten to its core, the branch lastly contacts the earth.
The winds lead me in their direction.
The sun dries me up after the rain.
I’m surrounded by flowers.
Master commands me and I listen.
I plant roots in the soil and dig deep into the roses.
For only then can master become a tree.
Only then can I be a master’s servant again.

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