A lofty demise
for such a delicate flower.
A little martyr
that made it past the frigid night
to be crushed in her hands
an dropped to the stairs
in final mortal agony.
but blessed is that flower
for as it died
it died glorified
and not as a weed
-withering.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem