And from those swilit flowers I'd found came the most enchanting sound. And I still remember those mournful wordsthe most beautiful voice that I'd ever heard.
It was a sunflower black face in a sea of black faces She sang to me-- bright yellow hair in the morning breeze Sunflower--how silently she sang.
And the sunflower said with a tear in her eye, "Kindly, sir, can you tell me why we've noticed the rain that falls from the clouds is not the same as we knew? For it was once so clear but now it's acid water we fear. And if it is not too much could you please bring back the rain that we knew? Could you please bring back the water we once knew?"
And the sunflower said with a wave of her hair, "Kindly, sir, can you tell me where the wind that blows from across the fields is not from the place we once knew? For there was once such a beautiful breeze, but now these gases poison our leaves. And if it is not too much could you please bring back the wind that we knew? Could you please bring back the air that we once knew?"
And the sunflower said with an innocent sigh, "Kindly, sir, can you tell me why the soil that holds our roots in the ground is not as rich as before? For the powder the farmer spreads with machines is washed by the rainfall down to the streams. And it poisons our cousins, the fish and the trees. Could you please bring back the soil we knew? Could you please bring back the earth that we once knew?"
As I was walking alone one morning, birds were waking and the cows were yawning. I passed through a wood and on the other side a field of sunflowers opened wide. A bright yellow field opened wide.
Martin Pitt Oldham, England