Artificial Flowers - a poem by Andrew Yip
Oh green leaves and flowers, a glamour to behold
You let time flow as your 'perfection' will always hold.
Your life is dreamland - carefree with no fragrance or aim.
Whether picked or plucked, your seasons remain the same.
Yours is a world of synthetic, man-made culture, with no osmosis,
A colorful life with little love or laughter and no photosynthesis.
Yet you see green leaves wilt, blown brown, falling from withered branches,
Like broken souls, trembling through the dark night, staggering from empty ranches.
Yet you sing and dance with smiles in the breeze,
Still listen to lullabies at night while other flowers freeze.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem