Whoa! Friends, slow down a bit, smell the roses
And appreciate your situations.
We can’t lose sight what’s under our noses
If we do, we invite our frustrations.
Who needs that god-awful discouragement?
Not you or me, so look for the flowers,
They are there. Look around; follow the scent.
But don’t look in other people’s bowers
You have plenty more in your own backyard.
Now take a whiff and thank your lucky stars
For these gifts, you have earned this high regard.
That’s right my friends, give yourselves a cigar.
Over the years we sowed what we reaped
Its harvest time now, the roses smell sweet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem