It rained hard and windy night,
I heard the shouting of the wind.
In the morn, it\'s full of the light.
The petals were scatted by the wind.
The roses of Sharon were torn.
The twigs were broken to litters.
Some flowers left, were worn
Out and were dangling like tatters.
Afraid if the tree were dead,
And can’t see again the flowers,
Only, I did to spread
And sweep the twigs for viewers.
Morrow, the sun rises again
With joy, the buds are blooming.
Never I forget, they’ll remain
In my heart ever-blooming.