Once I Asked a Rose
Once I asked a rose,
How it felt to be so beautiful,
And still have thorns.
The rose answered,
Since I have thorns,
People won't pluck me.
I answered that people,
Will still pluck you.
It answered they might but with great difficulty.
I asked the rose,
Do you like that?
It said I like it because I'm too wanted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem