But in hundreds in the farthest corners
Swing in waves the heads of unwanted weeds
Before they become tall and ugly
And prevent anything beautiful from flourishing
Feed them not with sweet water
Check them all before comes the spring
In your lovely garden
You might not see any pest with a naked eye
But in thousands secretly they gather
And at the roots or under the leaves like a cloud they lie
Before they become menace
And destroy all the plants before blossoming
Give them not any chance to spread
Spray insecticides before comes the spring.