Nymphs give me kisses,
Brushing against my knees and shoulders.
I become intoxicated by the faint lull of the tulips.
I breathe their lullaby in through my nose as it floods into my ears.
I am overcome with the beauty of their sound,
So subtle and so pure.
The sun winks at me and strokes my cheek,
Giving the whole afternoon a faint glow.
I look at vines, that climb high up the walls,
And I swear I can see them grow.
Why do the try so hard to grow,
Where, O where, do they have to go?