The Tree

The fairy woman came
with a Black & Decker.
She cut down my tree.
I watched her like a fool
cut the branches one by one.

My husband came in in the evening.
He saw the tree.
He was furious -- no wonder.
He said: "Why didn't you stop her?
What's she up to?
What would she think
If we got a Black & Decker
went to her house
and cut down one of the trees
in her garden?"

She came back next morning.
I was still breakfasting.
She asked me what my man had said.
I told her
He said: "Why didn't you stop her?
What's she up to?
What would she think
If we got a Black & Decker
went to her house
and cut down one of the trees
in her garden?"

"Oh," she said, "that's very interesting."
With a stress on the 'very'
and a ring from the '--ing'
though she spoke very quietly.
Well, that was my day,
such as it was,
turned upside down.

The bottom fell out of my stomach
and as if I got a good kick
or a punch in the guts
a weakness came over me
that made me so feeble
I couldn't lift a finger
for three whole days.
Unlike the tree
which happily, healthily grew away.

--Nuala ni Dhomhnaill, trans. by Michael Hartnett (Original poem written in Irish)