The enchanting beauty that fleets day by day,

The bright, calm and the dim hues fade away.

The beautiful diaphanous drapes laid far up above,

The ethereal spectrum that thine eyes love!

An angel flying by,

With watchful eyes

Above the skies!

Cherub before my eyes!

The infinite sky

Swept in blue,

Mingled with yellow.

Orange blaze

Far in the horizon,

The sun sets in the west.

Grasses dance ,

They wave goodbye,

As the sun hides

To welcome the night.

‘Tis the month of May

And the clouds are gray.

Spring is almost over,

In time, it will be summer.

Early in the morning,

Mists cover the valley.

Over the hills and the mountains,

The trees sway and dance in the coldness of  rain.

The shrubs are still verdant green,

The wildflowers are alive once again.

 

In the meadow, butterflies fly by,

And a gracious hummingbird 

come frolicking before thine eyes!

Glorious is this month of May,

Gracious Lord, we thank You

Day by day!

 

 

 

 

 

If I were a human,

I would be a septuagenarian.

But I am just a relic,

Full of memories of a clan.

I have been in the corner of the kitchen

At the old family house in Daklan.

Once looked perfect with soft

cushion, colored yellow and brown.

Each time when somebody comes

home or just to visit alone,

Like a seat of throne,

I was there ready to be sat on.

For countless years that so many

people have sat on me,

One of my legs broke one day.

I feared I would be thrown away,

But, alas! My leg was fixed by your father.

Not only that I stood up once more,

But I had a new and soft cushion,

And a new cover, patiently

crocheted by your mother.

Once again, I was happy

To be useful for the family.

Through the years, and moving on,

Each of you have fully grown.

You all had your own families,

Most of you have left home.

Your parents built a new home,

Up in the mountain they own.

They took me there, too,

I was so happy for the two.

Oh! Time flies, it does not tarry.

One becomes old, sick and weary.

Your father has long been gone,

While your mother

Is now an elderly woman.

I, too, have become useless

Left outside amongst the trees.

I bathe in the rain,

Bask under the sun,

And I let the pine breeze

Brush through my surface.

I wonder how I have become,

Only if I were a human.

But I am just a carcass,

In time, I too, shall pass.

Beautiful drapes drop,

From the heavens up above.

Hues of sky we love!

The Flower