The slice of the pull does bring about weight, your cry escapes into thin air. One does hear it, does he not? One doesn't know. What could he do, but linger and add another force. Oppression? One can't tell. The other wants stability, one can't throw blame. After all she weeded and watered you. She fertilized you. It is best you look at the robin and do not play.
Hence forth, there will be no more of homing pigeons. Let glorious sun just shine. It is best you look at the robin and do not play.
One has to grow one's leaves and petals to bloom and fall. She does not dilly dally with the watering can and is quick to throw fertilizer. But her eyes may fail, do they not? You told her it was a robin, outside the fence, yet she said, "No, it is a weed."Alas, it is best you look at the robin and do not play.
Ah, look! Thy thorns have arisen. What is this raised ire I see? Who lay on you such wants for emotion that shouldn't be stirred. The robin? No? I say, do not play.
My red rose, sweet red rose. I beseech thee, the gardener loves the rose and fears the robin's wants. Thus, it is best you look at the robin and do not play.
