Summertime
The tint of departing spring leaves for me
a bunch of red rose I keep in my heart
with touch of love as soft as dew could be,
in summer heat the flowers won’t get hurt.
In moon-splashed hot summer night I take you
to the brook’s blue bank through silken stardust.
In the vase of my heart rose of pink hue
glows in flamboyant flame of lustrous lust.
With the murmuring tune of torrid stream,
fervent music of yearning I compose.
In your eyes its cadence pulsates my dream,
enticed by my longing the lids don’t close.
Before I stop to sing summertime song,
beguiled, I will feel, to me you belong.
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