She'd plucked him from a school of flowers,
which he wasn't supposed to occupy.
Technically, a weed.
He wasn't young or freshly blooming, offering an absolute beauty
just from sheer youthfulness- merely, planted for effect.
You see, aged or not; he was an unparalleled sort of weed.
He was a 'Dandy'
And, oh, the way those Dandies
Pick me, they say, and we fold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem