Discarded flower
Cécile Chaminade
Carry off my folly
at the whim of the wind,
oh flower which I picked while I sang
and threw away as I dreamed.
- Carry off my folly
at the whim of the wind!
Like flowers scythed down,
love dies.
The hand that once touched you
now shuns my hand forever.
- Like flowers scythed down,
love dies.
May the wind that withers you,
oh poor flower,
a moment ago so fresh
and tomorrow all faded.
- May the wind that withers you
wither my heart!