Do not pick the flower
let it fade and
when the petals fall,
fold in the book, soft tissues
capture the waning essence
of your memory, past bliss
once to delight when youth.
Then safe in dark recess
let them sleep daylight hours
wake with you through nights
once crowded with the flower.
Hold the pillow as once your love
perfume fading, surely as it will.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem