Near a hotel pool, close to the sea br Stands proudly, this huge umbrella tree br Its thick branches, far and widely spread br Blooming with flowers, small and softly red br on top of a wealthy green leafy bed br br A breeze from the ever blue sea gushes by br Making hundreds of flowers fly high br And beauties that once ornamented the tree, br In a snow-flaky fashion, a pleasure to see, br Fall down in the pool, fall down on me br br Looking at the flowers in the pool, I note br They seem to enjoy to be lightly afloat br But then it occurs to me, a jolt in my head: br They do not enjoy, they’re dead br They have become floppy, hopelessly wet br br My mind fills with thoughts of my own mortality br How long will my body, my mind still be? br But my body and mind are not what makes up me. br I am my soul, which after death will be free br I think it may still come back to see br This miraculously beautiful umbrella tree.