Scented flowers drank from life
The veins of passion whispered true
Wrapped above a card-so white
A quill of black with words so few
Desires not-their friend who waits
Without a love so given free
Abounding in her hearts domain
A quill of black-says it must be
For those who cry when given none
The love they want is never found
The changing face, of one who gets
A quill of black-it does astound
The scented flowers wilt and die
And love-it changes with the wind
Beneath the card of white and fade
A quill of black is read again
Now tossed-the card of white and fade
And flowers pressed by pages torn
Their love-now changed by time and age
The quill of black-a love forlorn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem