A boy on a bicycle
passes by
and whistles and waves,
but without looking at him
or twisting in his direction
the blonde girl
sprays water on her roses.
Two boys walk past
and call her name
and without looking up,
she shears a lavender bush
and sweat runs
into her eyes.
a Motor biker blows
his noisy cycle’s horn
and without leaving her work,
she keeps on shearing plants.
The girl works until dusk
and while the sun’s
last rays fall,
she is happy in her garden
and when the evening star
hangs in the sky
she is thrilled
with the blooming flowers,
of which the scent
hangs in the air.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem