Life to move forward

Dear Garden is it you?
Lying in ruins and perfectly blue.
Your own flowers that in you did bloom-
Now lie there making you their tomb.
Why your nature then so bright and gay;
Now there lie as if it’s the Doomsday.

Dear Garden is it you?
Yesterday you looked so bright and new-
Verdant in colors of Emerald . . . .
Clement in thy Tyrian paint .
Perspicuous thy Cerulean tinges-
In your view my heart leapt.

Dear Garden is it you?
Just yesterday the birds flew from far and near.
You were filled with the Koel's kooks . . . .
. . . . here there in every nook
Your beauty attracted them from far and near;
For everybody you were very "Dear".
But now I can only see thee
in the Vassalage of Hay's fist.

Dear Garden is it you?
You were so beautiful and ever so new.
But just as the acrid age hath come by-
Slowly you put down gaudy gown . . . .
which so far hath each day- given you a new noun
Oh! Dear Garden is it really you?

Dear Garden is it you?
Now that no birds and bees fill thee with music;
And even the Gardener denies you that usual heartening zeal.
And those ......... your admirers ........
eyes twinkling with the Greenery around;
Have gone, forgetting all that was due.
Yet my dear garden you look shockingly new;
Though thy beauty has vanished with thy former hue.

Dear Garden is it you?
When ...... shall you wake a new?
My heart weeps for you
Only if you could get all that was due-
Peace would return to me and to you;
You would again look as fresh as dew.
Ah! look here comes the first August drops-
it brings with it again those fluttering crops.

Dear Garden it will again be you.
Soon you'd again look as fresh as new
For the Moment hope is here again .
Time will soon spell away the leaden grey.
All can be well again . . .
Beauty will come here again to dwell.
So does life moves on with
Milk , water and heavy honey
all mixed with the same strain.