Tell your secret to the nourished grass,
And your secret will be swept away by the wind.
Tell your secret to your bed-frame of rusting brass,
And let the polish cover up the secret, hidden.
Tell your secret to the flame of candlelight,
And the flame will die down before telling.
Tell your secret to the moonlit night,
And dawn will come before night can begin singing.
Tell your secret to an autumn flower,
And let it be crippled by the winter frost.
Tell your secret to the running water in your shower,
And let it spill down the drain with your secret, lost.
Tell your secret to the purest snow,
And by spring,  your secret will melt away into the well.
Tell your secret and let the  fireflies know,
And your secret can’t be retold; there is no one else to tell.