The wind passes by and the stalk raises itself erect, proud of its treasure, yet who will blame it for having bowed before necessity?
There you see that gigantic _kupang_, which majestically waves its light foliage wherein the eagle builds his nest.

I brought it from the forest as a weak sapling and braced its stem for months with slender pieces of bamboo.

If I had transplanted it large and full of life, it is certain that it would not have lived here, for the wind would have thrown it down before its roots could have fixed themselves in the soil, before it could have become accustomed to its surroundings, and before it could have secured sufficient nourishment for its size and height.

So you, transplanted from Europe to this stony soil, may end, if you do not seek support and do not humble yourself.

You are among evil conditions, alone, elevated, the ground shakes, the sky presages a storm, and the top of your family tree has shown that it draws the thunderbolt.