A flower, lovely and lithe, stands basking
Before the glory of my eyes, and smiles
To the winds blowing across my fields,
That stares jealously, at what belongs to me
The fragrance of my heart!
But alas! Along comes a whirlwind,
Blowing and puffing with destructive jealousy!
Too strong for my timorous flower
And deracinate it from my garden, roots and all
Leaving a porous hole in my heart!
I groan, and moan, such a lovely flower,
Stolen from me, right in my garden
That held the dream, to grace my room
In a vase that holds my heart
Enslaved in passions and dreams!
Oh lovely flower, gone with the wind!
Brought me such pain, and loss
Never again shall’u grace the vessel in my dreams
With fragrance from your petals,
That draws bees to thy nectar!