I crossed the beaten field
In a desert lone and dry
Never guessing it would yield
Flowers reaching to the sky
As dust rolled from my shoes
With eyes on brush filled hills
Who would ever see the hues
That would come when deep well spills
Though dry land stretch for miles
A lone flower caught my eye
Now distance can't stop the smiles
Nor fruits and flowers on every side
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem