The prayer of the forest
Migrant, who passes by me,
Listen to my demand.
I am the heat of your fireplace,
On cold winter nights,
I am your porch's friendly top,
to the shade of which you flee from the sun
my fruit slakes your thirst.
I am the beam, that supports your house,
I am the sheet of your table,
I am the bed in which you lay,
The board from which you build your boat.
I am the door of your house, the wood of your cradle,
The top of your coffin.
Migrant, you who pass by me,
Do not lift a hand to me!
Don't hurt me!
(Unknown author)
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Prayer of the forest 
