A fig tree without figs

Open the furnace, give me the plant, burn while the young ones watch,
In vain you came, in vain you must go.
An unruffled garden, a seed of figs with branches​ full of thorns.
Pick the sugary plant and throw it back into the fire.
For the friend who wanted figs found nothing but leaves. While the plant grew, it grew without figs.
How is it possible? How can this be?
Perhaps the Swindlers have stolen the crops, or the storms of life in the evening have blown it down. Perhaps the wild birds ate the crops, or the sun might have scotched it.
But why are you still gazing at the plant? Burn it! Burn it!
It is just leaves!
It is of no use to the Gardener​ now but to be cut down from its stem and be thrown into the fire.
Why sit there and count the stars?
Cut it down from the root.
No more will this plant yield its fruit.
Throw it back into the fire!  The sugary plant, a fig tree without figs!