Six Thousand Trees in Hanoi
City botany – Hanoi
1928. It becomes blindingly obvious
From the twelfth floor or twentieth:
Round and out into the horizon
Hazy, gray-dented citycrest,
Massive concrete chains of towers,
Colourless, devoid of vegetation,
Miles upon miles upon miles;
Within, in a state of embryo,
The city centre green and low,
Covered almost in tall trees,
Lining shallow, shiny lakes
A square kilometer or two:
Historic citadel, barracks
Dynastic capital and head quarters
Of power and army echelons;
Broad avenues and big trees,
Space surrounding old villas,
Shade, foliage and coolness
From colonial planting,
Open, empty luxury lawns
In a megacity with only
A square meter of park
Per each stressed city dweller.
1929. It’s all about feeling
The special bond
Between humans and trees;
A man (typically a man)
Can destroy a hundred years of growth
In an hour or two;
That’s a form of power:
Trees are weak, they live on mercy.
But when the tree is destroyed
We live at the mercy of cement,
A static, flickering asfalt oven
Where only fools go out in the sun
Uncovered in the naked city;
This is the negative power of trees
Their power of absence by violence;
Known to city dwellers by viscera.
1930. The City Council of Hanoi equipped
With police, party and generals
In twothousandfifteen did decree
Cutting down six thousand trees;
But when politics is forbidden
Everything is always political;
Townspeople understood at once
That a greedy council was eyeing
A corrupt timber deal
Of finest African mahogany,
In brief, that cutting is persecution
In a country where no one
Will defend a political detainee,
Stand up for a beaten up activist
Or a neighbour, and old friend;
Now, everyone flocked to defend
The threat to beloved trees
With such anger and rebellion
That the police dithered,
Shrunk back into the shades
And the council retreated, forgave
Itself their own excesses, as always,
Left untouched that city nature
Of which they know nothing;
Cowered to that culture
Of which they are unworthy;
And bowed to that life
In which they have no part.
A large part of the wayside trees in Hanois old town belong to the species khaya senegalensis, a tree fondly named in many languages, including African mahogany. I do not know for certain who planted them, but in view of their age, placement in the city and inclusion in the colonial layout of the city, and their origin from West Africa, it is reasonable to assume that the trees were planted by French town planners.
Last Updated on 1 uge by Jacob Gammelgaard