Under the night jasmine tree
That blooms in silence of night
And sheds at dawn before sunrise
As if shy of all passing sight
Bends an old woman picking up
Fallen flowers with feeble might!
“What are you doing, Granny?” ask I
Replies she, “Picking up my joy.”
“What will you do with them?”
“In my Lord’s worship I’ll employ.
The Lord who takes care of me
Who gives all His children
a toy.”
My soul, the child, is happy playing
Singing to herself in life alone
Forgetting all that surrounds her
That’s the joy of heavenly zone
Would you pick them up with me
Before the fiery Sun on us shone?
Xavier Bage
8:55 AM,
Wed, 23 November 2016
No comments:
Post a Comment