All the flowers are but one. Varieties:
In eyes, mind, gardens or songs; And in printing.
[I did not mention camera; as because,
It's an eye, also printing. ]
And blows. Because, a tree itself
Stable fire; and
It wants to express this truth—
Those who don't blow— cryptogamous;
But, no way to call them as fireless—
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem