Come, come, come
I’m only a young boy
I just came to pluck an azalea
on this fine, lovely day
and you - Oh, you came
shouting at me
and you threatened to call
for the men and the servants
to give me a beating

Come, come, come
I’m only a young boy
I just came to pluck an azalea
and you started beating me
and you struck me on the chest
with your soft left hand
and then you let it slide down
And then you pounded me on my shoulders
with your gentle fists
and then you let them slide down
And now we are in this azalea dance
O this impromptu Dance of Azalea
between you and me
Your hand in mind
You in mock-aggression
and I now in complete realization
O this improvised Dance of the Azalea
just you and me, as we go round
and round

And what the end in your eyes?
I see, I see, I see it in your eyes –
a quiet corner below the rocks
a gentle spot, softened by grass and flowers
Oh you teach me this Dance of Azalea
Come, come, come
I’m only a young boy
I just came to pluck an azalea
and you teach me the art of love