Don’t know when
The chrysanthemum
Trembling a few
In the wind
Covering the leaves a cluster of tears
The first day
The chrysanthemum is in full bud
Second day
An urchin
Guess in silliness
Whether it’s red
Or white
On the third day
A bouquet of red chrysanthemum
Adorned
A vessel in wedding
Ceremony
At night
Matters of the bride and the groom
It knows all
The fourth day
A small chrysanthemum
Ornamented a woman’s bosom
A frequent stare in the mirror
Self admitted her beauty
Her husband
Not homing the whole night
On the fifth day
In the park
A coughing old man
Boiling a pot of chrysanthemum tea
Launch the waiting
Old friend comes by the appointment
The mood of anticipation
Always hang
The eyes to look around
The old man
Constantly drinks that
Gradually
Went cold the chrysanthemum tea
At times
Comes
The coughing sound
On the sixth day
A clear day
Nor news at all of the chrysanthemum
On the seventh day
Fallen from the coffin
A white chrysanthemum
The funeral parade
Trampling it on
The center of the road
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem