In the morning
The blossoms were blooming.
Giving the world wonderful beauty.
Giving the eyes wonderful duty.
Giving my mind a wonderful question.
“was it the blessing of God
which made them charming
or the touch of my love .
which made them pretty?”
nearby was singing a nightingale
“If you listen the secret I’ll tell.
Doesn’t the perfume surrounding
exactly resemble.
Your love odor and smell?”