Here come my dear tulips again.
The distinct spikes are starting to show.
I have to put on paper with pen,
To tell you what flowers I grow.
My favorites are the deep dark red;
They're scattered throughout the gardens.
I have some in every bed.
For this, I beg no pardons.
A hobby, a joy, a love so grand,
My gorgeous tulips will survive.
All winter I've thought and planned,
For the days when they'll arrive.
Soon there will be hundreds anew;
All over the grounds you'll see.
And I'd love to guide you through,
My many gardens - Just You and Me.
Just a quick walk through my place,
To stop and visit my flowers.
It will surely put a smile on your face;
And take only a couple of hours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ah, you need to go and find a copy of Tulip by Anna Pavord. Your library may have a copy. A wonderfully accessible history of the tulip in all it's incarnations and the astounding market for bulbs that developed in Europe during the 18th century. A single bulb sold for more than the value of a house!