“Today I want to reap smiles from the fields of love
Which have grown from the odour of my plough.
I would earn from the harvest, myriad hue-ful bed of flowers-
Smooth in texture, deep at heart, like any newly bloomed lovers.
I would take a harp, to sing for her heart.
I would describe her hand, thats how I’d start :
“Merry lady of the fields, how full you made those seeds.
Golden princess still proceeds, to null my mind of the weeds.
Lay thy hand to bless this man. This man
Who sings for you as far as he can.”
I would give you a Rose that I hold in my palm.
New season came and my Rose is still calm.
My love is like that dead Rose white
That waited for her palm in many gusts of night.”