The Peach TreeBy the edge of the river side, a girl spoke in inundated words;
From her ears fell the sound of laughter, cast and drawn into that
Day of sea breeze by the peach tree: tangy, sweet
The perfect sorrow of the illusive, the gentle balm of the innocent.
There is a sailor, too young for his years, who keeps
This fruit at the bottom of his throat;
And when he reaches landwhere he may taste again
A pit will be left in the place of his saccharine.
Oh, the forest will weep a dozen seasons;
The bees will lose their loved ones (the beloved their bees); and
The peach tree will stand, a testament to time (no, stubbornness)
As those flowers, with hearts not without indifference,
Will ripen their petals in uninhibited abandon
So is the instant, so is the constant,
So is the inefficacy of love.
Once upon a time, there was a prince
A daffodil has met its bee.