Where is genius, how will it flower, nothing can be said, in the woodland many a beautiful blooms it, scatters it, but take we not to the scent, come to feel it not? As such is the unrecognized talent of many, which understand we not, take to not. Had we, how beautiful it would have been. Only took to myself egoistically on a larger format. There is none like me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem