I PICK ONE FLOWER EVERY MORNING TO WHOM SHE WALKS BY HERSELF ON MY WAY TO WORK. IT'S NOT DIFFICULT FOR ME TO DO THIS, BUT IT'S DIFFICULT TO A SHY PERSON LIKE ME TO GIVE IT TO HER. I PICK THE SWEETEST FLOWER FOR HER, BUT I CAN'T GIVE IT TO HER. I AM SO SHY AND THAT DOES NOT HELP WITH HER. I FEEL THAT SHE NEEDS ME TO GIVE IT TO HER IN HER HAND. IT'S DIFFICULT FOR ME TO DO THIS. ALL FLOWERS GOT FADED LIKE THIS. A SHY PERSON WHO CAN'T AFFORD A FLOWER TO HER! THE FLOWERS OF ALL MORNINGS GO LIKE THIS. PERHAPS THERE MIGHT BE, ONE DAY, A FLOWER TO BE GIVEN TO HER BY ME, BUT NOT NOW.
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I would like to translate this poem