I sat in the garden With Thomas Hardy's Jude the Obscure on my lap, And saw a small butterfly With dark spots on its frail wings, Violet patterns on its tail. It was Aglais utricae Flattering lightly Between the marigolds And chrysanthemums.
The Potentilla nepalensis Was growing well Under the shade of the rhododendrons. The great pumpkin was spreading Its leafy tentacles everywhere. The tomatoes were fighting for light Hiding beneath its gigantic green leaves.
A Papilio machaon with its swallow-tail Came from no where. The laughter of the children, As they swung in the garden's two swings Were a delight to one's soul.
Little Florentin's fear of bees, Natasha's morbid fear of spiders, Elena's garden gymnastics And Julian's delight in discovering New insects, snails and snakes.
Holding hands we strolled in our garden. You watered the flowers and trees, I removed long, brown snails, A hobby-gardener of Nepalese descent, In a lovely house with character in Z'hringen, An Allemanic stronghold. Once the subject of dispute Between Austria and France, Now a sleepy residential area of Freiburg.
