If my eyes could have heard,
They would have rejoiced weeping,
For as I wandered so freely,
The riot of colours overpowered me.
Such powerful displays of nature,
Set by a caring hand of man,
Have shown my once heavy heart,
A joy to be truly alive now.
These Roses and sweet Oleander,
The Asters and the ‘Old mans beard’,
Throw me over into raucous applause,
When the Danthus calls attention to summer.
What pleasure have we the enemy,
To behold how she creates our delight,
Beating us down with the power,
Of her beauty in every tiny corner.
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