You said the branches of the bakaina tree have all been cut
How did you write poetry without a subject?

You
used to come to gaze at its green leaves on the pretext of seeing me
In the beginning the sun's rays struck those leaves
and light
becoming cool and green
would cool my courtyard

Now the rays shine straight in - scorch my back
If visitors arrive, how can you sit in a room like this?
Its cooler on the other side, its cooler down below,
or its cooler over there