I still recall the Spring I first met you,
You picked a pretty rose and passed me by,
Then I, to feel your hand, turned to pursue,
And smelled the rose you held as alibi;
I grant that some goddess I have to thank,
For all the fortunes I have enjoyed next,
When from your cup of graces seems I drank,
Such as that kiss with which you had me blest;
Life was a garden then, the storms aside,
They can't be all that bad, for all we knew,
Their rains nurtured our rose to bloom with pride,
And by their winds tested how strong it grew;
......The rose is long gone now, so with the Spring,
......But not the sweet recall that both could bring.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem