Little red rose raising its head,
as it is owner of garden where it grows,
Its weak and delicate stem fighting with wind,
tries to remain straight like a poor person wish,
struggles with its poverty and remain content in it.
Little red rose weak having life of one or two days,
remind me of smile of peasent,
after its crop gives its value of hardwork and fades.
as time goes and his needs raise,
Little red rose having frgrance shows its presence,
by everything it has in the quest of survival.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem