When gardens begin to die br In these scorching sun and times br Where shall we go to smell flowers sweet? br br When gardens die for a season br I do not see a change, I see only an end. br Some one ordered me to be pessimistic. br br A flying bird comes down to my abode br And asks all of a sudden, `How are you friend? ` br I tell her a lie, ` I am happy in my garden`. br br The clouds have a promise to fulfill br They must break into water drops. br To let our plants live in a garden.br br M.