The merry month of May is here,
festivities are held everywhere.
Flowers bloom in this season,
but neither have I seen the blossom.
Where are the flowers gone?
I wish I could pick a lovely one,
the most attractive one that thrive,
to offer to the prettiest woman alive.
The once lively and colorful field,
a gloomy atmosphere it now yields.
The lovers who enjoyed the scenery,
gone are they and drifted away.
The Mayflower festivals we once enjoyed.
The festivities that brought us joy.
Gone was the merry atmosphere in May.
Gone were the flowers we longed to stay.
