The Tree Of Life

Written by Ali Jafaroglu (Aliyev)
Translated by Marjeta Shatro Rrapaj

One tree has grown in a hot and dry area. This tree has climbed much, high. There were so many leaves that there was a shadow all around. Every time the sun warmed him, he was disappointed, because no one caressed him, did not care for him.
The tree, from loneliness, considered it useless that it grew here. I dreamed that it would be better to be a small shrub, but to have tall trees nearby. For birds to sit on its branches, for people to rest in its shade.
The tree shed bitter tears. We cried so much that a transparent puddle formed around.
Days and months pass, the seasons replace each other. The frost and cold of winter freeze the puddle, the spring rain fills it, it trembles from the autumn wind, evaporates from the hot summer. Everything goes on as usual, no change has taken place. The tree, bored from loneliness, was disappointed, heart ached from sadness.
Hearing some rustle or noise, the tree, startled, raised its head higher, the heart beats with excitement, but not seeing anyone, it is disappointed.
One person was walking through the arid area. My heart was breaking from the suffocating heat. From thirst, as on the ground, cracks formed in his lips, his legs were dumbfounded from fatigue.
The man leaned against the ground. With a heavy gaze, he looked into the distance, into endless space. Looking at the sky, I saw the galaxy. As if from the ancient beliefs of the Egyptians, the remaining, imprinted in the sky, the heavenly cow was reflected high.
How much I slept, I did not remember. The sun has risen. He saw a dark spot in the distance. He, gathering all his strength, crawled in that direction.
After hard torment, he reached the circumference of the tree. The shade of the tree brought coolness to him. He, lying down, drank a lot of water from a puddle and from powerlessness was for a long time without memory.
The tree was a little overjoyed at the man. It stretched its branches to a puddle, watered the face of a man with its leaves. Then, trembling like a light breeze, he gave the man breath.
The tree, the man’s watchman, did not sleep all night.
With dawn, the darkness went far away. Everything was covered with a milky color.
The man opened his eyes. Gradually he got to his feet. He opened his arms and breathed in fresh air. After yawning a little, he raised his head up, examined the tree with his gaze. What I saw was, as in a dream, I understood everything essential.
The sadness instantly passed, a feeling of inspiration came.
The tree greeted the man with a loud voice:
-Welcome, my dear! Good morning!”
The man received the greeting of the tree;
-Good morning, my favorite tree of life! – he answered with a smile.
From these words, the soul of the tree was filled with tenderness.
Indeed, how beautiful it is to be called a tree of life ?!

Ali Jafaroglu (Aliyev)

Presidential scholarship holder of the Republic of Azerbaijan,
writer, member of the Union of Writers of Azerbaijan, leading advisor
Akstafa District Education Department

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