Mighty pine
Age has rotted your branches
Your roots no longer caressed by vines
Your needles have fallen
Eighty feet high
You've touched the sky
Heard its whispers and sweet mysteries
Now you sway dangerously
A stiff wind shakes you horribly.

Mighty pine
You've seen seasons pass
Longer than many alive
Now it is time to rest
Your wood turns into a sweet smoke
An offering to the sky you reached
Freedom from your solid stance
A guardian you no longer need to be
Be free and kiss the sky for me