Will a rose shrub become mere bush of thorns?
Won't it sprout buds escaping animals of horns?
Won't snow breeze fan to unfurl petals of rose?
In the barren hot concrete yard should it end
As a pot plant drooping in sizzling sun?
Won't it get a foot of earth to root and stand?
Some flying creatures cut its leaves for their nest
Some crawling caterpillars eat its leaves to their best
Some sticky insects spoil the buds drinking its essence
The burning air of summer simmers the whole plant
Yet it genuinely tries to bloom to please gardener's heart
I am the doomed rose plant and You are my keeper Devi!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem