Dear Clove, I love you
though your love to me is as bud.
Dear Rose, I adore you
though your love for me is as petals.
Dear Cherry, I cherish you
for all your love of berry.
Dear Poppy, I am happy
with you, for your love as seed.
Dear Croton, you too I love
Though your love is only leaves.
Every plant is of my love
as I know their limitation.
I don’t expect that
I woo each plant to seeding.
I confine myself to the availability,
From where I draw my sensibilities.
I live and plants live.
The love is not scorched mid way.
03.05.2001, Pmdi
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem