Cowering with shy stems and gentle buds
Not yet opened with flames of yellow
To match the sun and defy the floods
To swagger as Spring's bedfellow
The whitewashed wall at your back
Your only defence against chilly spears
In the vanguard of Winter's attack
On the cracked mortar and crumbling piers
Calmer days await your disbelieving stare
And straighten your timid droop
Fresh breezes will embolden and banish care
Proud stance replace wind-blasted stoop
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem