The rose that was sown yesterday,
Grew into a verdant bush;
Its buds sprung forth
And transformed into a flower,
Diffusing their aromatic scents
Into the ether.
Alas, it withered away.
Surely, akin to the rose's span
A time will arrive
When I shall part ways
From the yoke of burden.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem