A Blooming Tree
May Buddha let us meet in my most beautiful hours, I have prayed for it for five hundred years.
Buddha made me a tree by the path you may take.
In full blossoms I’m waiting in the sun every flower carrying my previous hope. As you are near, listen carefully the quivering leaves are my waiting zeal.
As you pass by the tree without noticing me.
My friend, upon the ground behind you is not the fallen petals but my withered heart.