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.