The flowers are talking to me today,
They say, 'Hey! M****! What is it your thinking? '
I say my thoughts are one butterfly ¨s wing...
'Oh! Wow! Metaphysical! How-now, pray-
Small, light and pointy? Divers-colours? May-
be? ....inquisitive flora...My meaning
I shall keep.Cogitation is seeming
Private or lest it loose it´s interest..
.
Their heads, obliquely, confer in silence..
The heat beats it´s height of solar power...
'It is a wise-man solitude has blessed!
But hark! The fresh call of an ambulance..
Alone is well..but talking to flowers-
We reccomend a friend and perhaps rest...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem