Two scores and seven
gay springs among
the tall trees and green shrubs
I have been.

Proud and peerless
I have danced and sung
alike in shower and sunshine
nude.

With trees and plants
in this garden I’ve been,
of roses and jasmines, of apples
and peaches;
with creepers and cuttings
and climbers green.
a camomile blushingly
kissed my branches.

Yet often did I wish
‘were I jasmine,
a rose or at least a lily
some day’.

The apples and peaches
I dreamt to bear; in vain
I tried to tamper with nature’s way.

What will I yield
often I wonder
the gardener knows
what I must I render.