Oh, my heart, that has become hard like stone
How should I plough thy sanctified surface
So that upon thee, revered flowers grow,
With an aroma so mild, filled with love!
Oh, my heart, can I soothe thy rigid walls?
Sowing seeds on stone, for a tree to grow
So the flowers blossom in season new
And bear fruits for eternity alone.
For the soil yonder tends fields of flowers
Unfurling its ambrosial aroma.
And sow seeds of love and understanding
That bears sweet berries of benevolence
Crawling and creeping, the fruit of love grows
Reaching the realm of every heart and soul.
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