The shades of trees did hold me once,
The whistling wind went o'er my head,
The birds on twigs did sing a song,
And i did not know their Hmong.
The flowers I saw which gave a glimmer ,
The soil which smelled so soothing to me,
The waters which gave me an arc of hope,
Told me i was like a mope.
Half down head like a forest black,
Held up high like a sunfkower jacked,
Red to curves like a season rose,
Was all to give me a heavy doze.
Now shades did not turn up for me,
Birds did not now hym for me,
But she' did now give me a shine
And hope was now by my affine.