.
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The wind, one brilliant day, called
to my soul with an odor of jasmine.
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"In return for the odor of my jasmine,
I'd like all the odor of your roses."
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"I have no roses; all the flowers
in my garden are dead."
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"Well then, I'll take the withered petals
and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain."
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The wind left. And I wept. And I said
"What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you ?"
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~ Antonio Machado
(translated by Robert Bly)
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