Summer hot and sultry,
I stood in my overcrowded greenhouse,
suffocating as if I were in a steam bath.
The summer orchids bloomed,
especially the cattleyas,
the indisputable queens.
They all exuded perfumes,
according to their hues.
Predominant the violet dictated
while the yellows stood subdued.
Fern plants stood still,
pleading for cool water,
little realizing that even I had need.