My garden, my friend,
I won’t go away
without saying farewell
without thanking you.
The old cherry tree knows much
about hope and gratitude,
and I’ll certainly learn from its knotted branches
one last lesson of patience and fortitude.
I smile to the white butterfly
flying in the blue light of bliss:
wildflowers seeds will ever stay
under the magic spell of Summer winds,
but I know I’m going to leave you
without looking back,
for no flower has ever grown
from a gardener’s tear.
illustration : la maison vue du jardin aux roses, Claude Monet (1922-1924)