Little coy Flora blooms in pride
Smiling and dancing all the while,
Puts up her delight and delicacy
Beaming afresh all round and wide;
Friends and foes praise her style
Nodding over her chromatic, fragrant efficacy
For all that, the bearing stand,
The feeding root and the foliage cover
Share not the prize nor the renown;
Be it decor, devotion or moments bland
The culled darling reaches the tower
Of adoration and wears the crown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem