The nightingale falls asleep under the white sun
The clocks have stopped counting
The cherries fell from the tree, one by one
A child wrapped them in a blue shawl

The garden sinks into silence
Can you hear the old man?
He came to take the pulse of the flowers
The wet petals of the roses under his fingers

Can you hear the old man?
He whispers a revolutionary song
To put the birds of this land to sleep
Can you hear the old man?