When a Flower Is Beautiful
A flower so beautiful,
On the branch of the tree,
Is unaffected, thoughtless.
Too long it lasts since is there.
But if plucked, no longer lasts
Fades out its beauty in no time.
It thinks the love is greater
And lets itself be plucked and offered to destructive worms.
It's a blossming flower which has no sence of the love,
Will know when the time comes.
But time is not let to come.
It is posioned before.
When it comes to know everything is false,
It can't burden that more
And finds the only way of killing itself,
And does so.
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