Roses dry and pedals fall
Stems die on thorn pricks tall
Scent lingers in the light
Breezing on through the night
Oh, fragrant rose on the wind
Whispering rapture around the bend
Quilts fazing like the moon
Lingering in a blissful tune
Calling to a mindful song
Oh this feeling can’t be wrong
Mysteries play its fluted note
Singing again the song she wrote
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem