Planet Earth is our garden
We, the flowers, are wilting away.
Overblown flowers once enjoyed beauty-
That was in the day.
In this murky night,
Red blossoms begin to grow.
And only shed leaves find solace
In the cold winds that blow.
On bright petals,
We, gardeners, trample
And with our conscience
A rustless tussle.
If only we tasted nectars,
A different tale, it'ld have been
If only we knew
Planet Earth is our garden.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem