From the distance your hair looks
Like a carpet of daffodils on the hills,
Swaying to and fro gently with the winds
As if to say "Hello there!" to the passing clouds.
Then those spots of lavenders
Must thus be nothing but your eyes,
Winking now and again when sun shines
And crying when in the rain no passerby passes.
And those few wild red roses
Can only then be your luscious lips,
Waiting for the favourite butterfly to find
You and kiss your lips as more than just a friend.
My daffodils, my lavenders
And my wild red roses of the hills,
Do please tell me if you would want me there
With you when the dusk sets and the stars soar.
As I would keep your petals
Moist and warm as you gaze the stars,
If the frost sets in I'll defrost it with my kisses
So in the morn they'll turn into the sweetest dews.
