“Our Casuarina Tree,” a poem written in English by the Indian writer Toru Dutt, The poem is a

nostalgic reflection of the poetess' childhood memories of the casuarina tree, which stood in her
family's garden. The tree's magnificent and imposing presence evokes memories of childhood
and joyous moments with siblings and friends.
The poet describes a Casuarina tree. She says that a creeper, like a huge python, winds round and
round the rugged trunk of the tree which is marked deep with scars. The creeper climbs up to its
very top near the stars. No other tree could survive this creeper. But the giant casuarina tree
bravely wears the creeper as if it were a scarf.

Crimson flowers bloom in groups in the branches where all day birds and bees gather. And at
night in the garden, a sweet song that seems to have no end is sung in the dark from this tree,
while men sleep. The poet describes the casuarina tree in this stanza.

When the poet throws her window wide open at dawn, her eyes are delighted to see the casuarina
tree. Sometimes, mostly in winter, a gray baboon sits statue-like alone on top of the tree,
watching the sunrise. On the lower branches, his little babies leap about and play. Far and near
kokilas hail the day while sleepy cows go to their pastures. The casuarina tree casts a shadow on
the big tank by the beautiful and vast ho-ar tree. Here, water-lilies bloom like snow. The poet
narrates the various sights she has seen on and near the casuarina tree.
Her friends are now dead, which is why the memory is so sad to her. She hears a mournful
murmur like the sea against a pebbled beach. She says is the tree’s lament, a ghostly speech that
may by chance reach the unknown land. She feels as though the tree is mourning her dead
friends too.
The poet says that the lament might be unknown, but it is familiar to those faithful to the tree and
the memories made beneath it. She has heard that wail in faraway distant lands by sheltered bays.
She has heard it when the water-spirit slept in his cave and the waves gently rolled against the
classic shore of France and Italy, beneath the moon when the earth was dreamlessly sleeping.
And every time the poet heard this music, she saw a sublime form in her inner vision. This form
was that of the casuarina tree in the happy days of her youth. She saw the tree in her beloved
native climate. Therefore, even when she is far away from home, the image of the casuarina tree
brings great comfort to her.
Therefore, the poet would eagerly create something for the tree’s honor. The tree was loved by
companions who were dearer to her than life, but they are now dead. When the poet dies, she
wants the casuarina tree to be counted among deathless trees such as those in Borrowdale. This
refers to the trees of Borrowdale that have been immortalized in poetry by William Wordsworth.