In the morning breezes
When the air almost freezes
Flowers blossom easily
Dew covered and wet
They come out of bed
Then the sun rises warming off the dew dry
Its time for the butterflies to fly
On goes the day but Alas!
The sun rises still
Growing ever hot like it will burst
Until overhead it settles ill
When Heaven lets the fireball obnoxiously low
Even the most beautiful flowers shrink
Thus a flower by all means falls
In the face of scorching heat!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem