It is pretty quiet here. And the sheep is here.
All alone, it sits beside a seed of rose, waiting for it to grow.
The seed remains silent. And sometimes, silence hurts.
The grass carpet is green and looks talkative
but the tiny little sheep has got no one to talk to.
It is waiting for the rose.
It knows one day some greeny little things will pop up from the seed
And with the mixture of tear drops and sunshine, the plant can produce a rose.
Yes a rose, a rose that has an impatient face.
It doesn't matter, as long as it is a rose that comes from the arrogant seed,
the sheep speaks to itself.
It might not be a rose that finally blooms from the plant, who knows?
The careless little sheep might have mistaken a durian seed for a seed of rose,
the grass speaks to itself.
No one can tell the next.
You have to just sit down, and wait and see.