Zacharias Papantoniou

“ The resin followed a notch and dripped into an expressly hollowed-out bowl in the ground between the pine roots.
All of this massacre for the resin, for the few drachmas that the Yeusois would put into their haversack if they sold it.
The stripped pines die in a short time. They're blown down by the first gust of wind or they dry up because they have no more sap.
They understand their end is near, but nevertheless they sing; they sway and rustle like the others, the healthy pines. ”

“ With the piece of trunk which is left they drink in from the ground as much sap as they still can. They become green, have a shadow.
Even so vandalised they can refresh passers-by. Their nature is to do good, that doesn't change. ”