Who had painted you so fine
And garnished you with cool radiance
Which stand bright in rain or shine
Erect with your ever lasting fragrance
On sweet stalk of the morning dew
Twisted in band of rings
Wholesome in stands of many bouquets
We offer in honour of sleeping kings
Who trusted us even in the face of death
Oh gentle blossom, a choicest clue
Flowers of the young morning
Sweet as nectar in your hollow end
A butterfly's best, like bee's honey
Made by nature to its finest blend
Oh flowers of red and sleeping blue
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem