On the warm rays
Of rising sun,
On the cool breezes
Of morning
Comes fluttering
Into our garden,
A butterfly,
Carrying
Twin boons
Of beauty
And bliss;
Flitting,
Orbiting
Around blooms,
Swaying,
Floating
Winged beauty
Lands so softly
On a dewy, red rose;
Its face
Stuck deep
Into the bosom
Of the blossom,
Invisible,
Indulged
In the romance
Of sucking
Love’s nectar,
Yet, its gossamer wings,
Flapping gently,
Displaying
Marvelous patterns
And designs
Of rich colors
Against back-drop
Of gleaming red
Of tender petals
Of rose,
What a celebration
Of wondrous colors
At the festival
Of supreme beauties/
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem