The seeds of love

I sowed the seeds of love,

And I sowed them in the spring:

I gathered them up in the morning so soon

While the small birds so sweetly sing.

My garden was planted well

With flowers everywhere.

But I had not the liberty to choose for myself

Of the flowers that I love so dear.

The gardener was standing by,

And I asked him to choose for me.

He chose for me the violet, the lily and the pink,

But those I refused - all three.

In June there's a red rosebud,

And that is the flower for me.

I often times have plucked that red rosebud

Till I gained the willow tree.