A cactus blooms in spring
Yet dies in summer
The cactus still looks green on a lovely summer morning
Yet there is a strangeness that the owner notices
The cactus leans on the pot side
Just like an elderly falls down on the roadside
A rescue is needed
A napkin is on the cactus thorns
A surgery is to be on
Alas
Too late
The surgeon sighs
The napkin is lifted
A big rot touches even the surgeon's eye
'There is no hope now"
The surgeon says
'The inside of the cactus has rot"
The rot is like a big mud pool
A terrible sight
'Who is the cactus owner? "
The surgeon asks
'How do you treat the cactus daily? "
Then the surgeon remembers something
She herself is the owner
She feels sorry
For herself and for the plant
Then she thinks
Whether she should keep the pot when she throws the dead cactus away
A cactus opens ten flowers in a spring day
On a summer morning it passes away
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem