Night flower that blooms tonight in my garden,
night dewed, stands still
as the moisture carrying breeze gently caresses its petals...
Dry summer smell that evaporates from the baked earth
mingles with the redolence that exudes from the night flower
and flows mutely with a blithe disregard...
It reaches you, balmy still, while you are fast asleep...
You  dream of a distant person,
the one who meets you oftentimes in your dreams;
perceiving his presence by his scent that engulfs you in a reverie...
In the morning,
when you wake up,
won't you tell me that you had a good night's sleep?
Won't you tell me that you remember
about the faint fragrance of Night Jasmine
that still lingers on your mind
and that you won't forget about it for times to come?
Won't you tell me now?
Won't you?