All the buds set not to flowers;
All the flowers set not to seeds;
So are the seeds not to seedlings.
Yet there is a joy in every function,
By which trees get exhilaration.
Still in blossom rests our love.
Yet it reverberates in me by its move
And generates lustre to your skin.
Let the blossom stay, if not be for seeding.
09.01.2000, Palakkd
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem