A Blooming TreeMay Buddha let us meetin my most beautiful hours,I have prayed for itfor five hundred years.Buddha made me a treeby the path you may take,In full blossoms I'm waiting in the sunevery flower carrying my previous hope.As you are near, listen carefullythe quivering leaves are my waiting zeal,As you pass by the treewithout noticing me,My friend, upon the ground behind youis not the fallen petals but my withered heart.
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