All the roses that I see now
I planted where you're not.
And all of those roses still do bloom
in my favorite spot.
There you were buried not long ago
and I visit where you're not.
For surely a soul as sweet as yours
would never grace a plot.
But still I visit and water the roses
and pray that you can see
what this small act of tending
has been able to do for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem