Boundless yellow cups are shining
Upon the luscious meadow grass.
Beneath the feet of playful children
Telling fortunes as they pass...
Each tiny petal smooth as satin
Romantic blooms from history
Growing over village gardens
Or beside a folklore Rowan tree.
Pretty buttercups ever glowing
Popular as a flower can be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem