Oh! thorny stems entwined!
Towards heaven they rose high,
Bringing forth soft petals,
With fragrance that soothe.
Plentiful during the month of May,
You rose your blossoms up high!
Like the triumphant geese,
Bringing their heads up high!
Oh, old rose of this land,
Lovely all the year round.
Yet another thorny little thing
Crawled at your stiff stems.
Ugly sticky little worm,
Who eats verdant leaves.
Without satisfaction you gored,
Leaving nothing for the rose.
Then suddenly the worm sleeps,
Dried leaves around him keep.
At another time came to wake,
As a very lovely butterfly.
(7/20/04. 8: 15 p.m)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem