If a rose's thorn Cuts my finger, then I can say that there is no hope Behind that Simply because thorns hurt anytime and A hopeless hope comes from within... I am not complaining, but I throw a light about a reality... It's no need to have my finger cut Just for the sake of a rose... I can buy a bunch of roses To my loved ones Without having my fingers cut... Roses are pretty, but Their thorns are ugly and There is no hope Out of these ugly thorns anytime. ______________________________________________________________________
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem