Flowers are beautiful.
They are a sweet scent.
God has a purpose for them,
But they reach one point, they wither and die.
There was this flower,
That was a real beauty from above.
It had a lovely scent that never fades.
It drew the eyes of many,
And no one wanted to look away.
The bees kept coming and
The scent never ran out.
Though the flower never grew,
Where none of its kind ever existed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem