SelfPub: There was a garden

There was a garden, and late spring
The second half of may,
And silver pine,
In the sun like gold.
Over the garden towered the fence.
Just below flowed a river.
It seemed that happiness from now on
With me will remain forever.
And there is no storms or thunderstorms
Neither poverty nor humiliation,
No pain and not someone else's tears
No age, no rejection.