Unfurling it's willowy wings,
Little angel on my vale emerges.
Soaring above all,
With wind's blustery breathe.
The wings, caressing the sun,
Like a coloured hue, humming in sunshine.
A floret, beautiful and imperial,
Fluttering and hovering high.
Winging round the rose.
A butterfly, sweet and adorable,
Lives just a little.
Behold, the wings break down,
The Bumblebee scatters apart.
Alas! She counts not months,
But moments, has time enough,
There the wings were mounting high,
And there they plunge apart.
Nothing prevails for long,
And a broken butterfly ofcourse,
Does never flutter again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nyc lines wani.....