As another flower dies, in its broken bud,
A cloud of blossom in the sky blows down from God above.
In a flower bed amongst the dead,
A bulb beneath stirs and starts.
When spring comes once more,
After the thaw another flower shall grow.
In shades of red with a strong, green stem,
With a petal round and soft,
That flower will bloom,
Until the doom of its inevitable death.