Every part of my garden is a lyric
Under the shade of tall trees
Thorny cactus form the edges
The dark soil hides the relic
Crooked cracks lodge an army of bees
Its constant renewal and healing balm are worthy than wages
Little bird sings
Welcome to my world
Autumn leaves fall
Roll on a colorful carpet
The wind isn’t cold
It is Fall
The insects drum a trump
Little bird sings
Listen to the bruised barks and chopped trunks
Denounce it in melancholic melody
Dust and stones have replaced the green
Uprooted from its natural banks
Who could play a rhapsody?
The change can be seen.
Little bird sings
Hypnotic Winter call in a rusty voice
In Spring, I blossom
No more garments, my eyes cry
Frosted lawn offer a haunted peace
Destruction and devastation rise from the bosom
Beautiful Summers are now sting dry
Little bird sings.
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