I just look beyond my blurred window.
I look at the winter tree
Blooming with many pinkish flowers,
An emblem of winter love it must be.
Compassion stirs this heart
My room is so warm and fascinating,
She's standing still being a bleary
Like as me drowning in weariness in this misty morning.
A friend says she is a very old Camellia tree,
Must have an aptness there in her waiting;
Much better she's than this vacant heart
That always walks with loneliness in an arid desert.
It's like a reward that she betows everytime
With such loving flowers to help winter mornings become bright.
World is embellished with such great grantors,
And I just want to be engrossed in love all the time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem