The rose is ever green,
The rose remains bloomed
With dewy honey it graces the vase
Barring all sorrowful gloom.
The rose is there in the abstract room.
The rose in the garden,
Is plucked and molested,
The rose repairs for another night,
The rose forgets the sunny light.
The rose knows, wherever it goes,
That its youth and beauty grows in some One's garden,
And Love harbors it, -the rose is certain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem