The familiarity of a flower is so small,
I love to admire and drink this alcohol.
I may at first be appalling, so splendid,
Yet now the mother in you is abdicated.
Never in this mind of a lovely lady
Do I see applause, like the raining indecency
Of a mild season, one of the efforts,
May appalling weather have comforts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem