...then my lovely woods,
insane for a dainty dawn,
when some early rays in stray, shattered,
sprinkling dew drops,
woke up into the wings of breeze.
i was strolling in my garden,
when some buds with drunken fragrance,
unfurled into a bunch of blossom,
to sip the cent of morning dew.
with a dizzy spell i walked ahead.
when i saw them sprightly dance
in a sublime thrill,
i stretched the mighty hand
to twist the powerless stalk,
granting not a single word to talk.
a single squeeze!
my fingers crushed it down.
on throb, two throbs, then some whispers
went out from her silken petals,
as easy as her death:
'now i leave my trail of fragrance
as a token of lofty pardon
behind the paths you trailed ahead.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem