O nymph, my eyes see you across there.
Your lustful charm has sent a tremor
Deep into all my rusted parts.
My ancient torso signaled to my limbs
And new foliage was soon shot at.
And I don't hear coarse rustle anymore;
The amorous air blows a passion
Over the newly shot-up tender leaves
And they now nudge and caress each other in medieval courtship courtesy.
When the mellow gloaming minutes leap into gloomy envelope at last, I eveasdrop the
Pillow-talks of couple-birds in their twigs-built chamber on my glistened silver lap.
At these eerie hours of otherwise dead silence your whispers carried by the wind-angel
Lull my pined soul to sleep for the day.
Your balmy palms will heal all the hollow pockmarks all over my too wizened bark.
My curved reflection on the tank underneath delights the pair of white-snow swans who
Trip up the ripples across the watery shadow.
My long time diurnal companion wakes me up at the crimson dripping dawn.
My glance falls across on the paved steps afar and the fount-splashes over the
Neck-fringes of the designed pot clung on your slender recess.
Oh! How lovely! Now let me have this distant, superb invigorating shower.
