i may have
misled the rose
to think
that it can sing well
like
a bluebird
i pity her with
the loss of her
thorns
it sings now and
leaves wilt
prematurely
it is all my fault
how flowers hate themselves
now
someone's got to help
take the rose from this
misfortune
let the bee come
let it tell her the fate
of bluebirds....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem