14 August, 2010

Dear Tree. Sing I shalt to thee.

I feel next to that tree, right about now.



'If you want a red rose,' said the Tree, 'you must build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with your own heart's-blood. You must sing to me with your breast against a thorn. All night long you must sing to me, and the thorn must pierce your heart, and your life-blood must flow into my veins, and become mine.'

Oscar Wilde - The Nightingale and the Rose