It stood in solitary silence,
marooned on an island of its own,
stranded and forsaken.
Its fate left to the hands of the gods.
The four winds
tore at its petals head,
rain shredded its green leaves,
and still it stood
in defiance of the elements,
standing worn and torn,
but still erect,
a wild red rose.
4 August 2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wild rose... hundreds the prickles, attractive beauty, but dangerous...10... Best wishes.