Even when it rains
The feelings is the same
Even when it shines
The feeling is the same
Even when the wind blows
Between its palms carrying
Dry leaves as they drift
Even when the grass sings
Sweet melodies for butterflies
Dancing as they throbbed
The feeling is the same
Quite as redolent sesame, the same
A feeling sensed by a soul
So cheerful as it journeys
To put those lush flowers
On an Arcadian doorstep
For a dear blossoming heart
Only flowers once called
Les Fleurs du Bien
Are to be uniquely bestowed