the garden I sweated for over three decades
(working so hard, with regular watering and weeding
ever caring the old plants, and planting new seedling
as i walked and talked daily with the bloomed flowers)
suddenly decided to walk away with another
(to enjoy the embrace of a rogue gardener
when he, neglecting his own, strolled into mine
to stroke and caress my blossom in the dusk)
depriving me, my soul and heart, of love
(that fragrance that inspired my heart beat
rhythmically to that distant drum that made
my work easy, providing also bliss in leisure)
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