The solitary butterfly flitted from bloom to bloom
He sipped tender nectar and then lost his gloom
But every morn he would fret again
He kept fluttering to soothe the hidden pain
Then one fine morn, he sipped honey divine
He said to the flower, you have to be mine
The flower blushed a crimson red
She curled up her petals and went to bed
The butterfly tried hard but it was all in vain
The flower refused to bloom again
He flew around her day and night
He sang her songs and rhymed his plight
But the flower refused to let go of the slight
She held close the petals with all her might
He lay drooping now, it was a sorry sight
But still the flower refused to delight
He couldn't survive for lack of sweet
His little heart nearly missed a beat
At last the flower knew he was earnest
Unfurled her petals and drew him to her breast
Together they lived a life blessed
Now each day only her he caressed
When you have tasted the wine best
You choose to ignore the rest
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem