While looking at a bright flower
in the garden grown with his hands
a gardener feels himself the proud flower.
The beautiful flower first steals his gaze
then drinks his eyes and then eats his brain.
The gardener feasts his poor heart only on that flower.
The lost gardener loses the rest of the garden
to the wide open mouths of dropping in visitors.
Some regular guest insects just enjoy the fun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem