The planting of a blossom

On desert’s sand does bloom

After rain’s sparse fall

And the sun’s scorching rays

But the worth of this is small

Compared to other things

 

A child’s thoughts and reveries

Of slaying evil’s wretched deeds

Their naïve beliefs in truth and kindness

Never cease to amaze the realist

But the worth of this is small

Compared to other things

 

Those same fantasies, later criticized

By those same realists, caused the demise

Of a child’s dreams and hopes, and lies

In wait for a future that will not come

Yet will begin again when night has gone

But the worth of this is small

Compared to other things

 

The planting of a blossom

On a desert’s sand does bloom

Only after rain’s fall,

Sparse as it may be;

The flower will not wilt,

Despite the arid sun

And the worth of this is great,

Compared to other things