Under a summers flowering tree
Sat her, him, you, and me.
We talked and laughed, of days gone by,
Dreamed and dreamed and wandered why.
WHY was she, and why was he, why were you,
And why me, why the bird, why the bee.
And why not make love under a summers flowering tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem