My great-grandmother was like a rosebush,
In the morning she was drawn back and lifeless as if winter,
In the noon she was blooming and stretching as if spring,
In the afternoon she was flowering and colorful as if summer,
In the night she was resting and closing as if fall,
Amazingly she fit all four seasons into one day,
My great-grandmother was like a rosebush beautiful in every way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem