Thursday, April 19, 2007

A Thousand Flowers

A Thousand Flowers
There's a field of a thousand flowers
I cannot begin to know them all
But of these thousand flowers,
One is dead and gone.

And was it the rose of Sharon
That bloomed on the mountain path?
Or was it the speckled tiger-lily
Dancing in a gentle wind?

Was it the sweet little daisy
Turning its face to be washed in the sun?
Or was it the tall camellia
Grown in a shadow of ice?

There's a field of a thousand flowers
I cannot begin to know them all.
But of these thousand flowers
The forget-me-not is forgotten, gone.

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