The flowers that secreting perfumes,
May not want to smell the dirt,
In which the plants are rooted,
Underneath, the decaying process,
Never stops, the plants have the juices,
To keep them afresh and ablaze,
To make others to look at them with love,
Turn their heads to visualize,
From where the pleasant flavor arises,
The beautifully dressed flowers,
Emit the fragrance to hide their natural odor,
And not to like to smell the odor of others alike,
Freshness has lost the meaning,
The moment we have extracted the perfumes,
To spray on the soiled fictions of curtain,
That are knitted permanently to our sense of fashion.
Let us keep the bottles in our piggy bags,
Spray on us and others not to know of the real facts,
Camouflaging is the best act,
When we grow from a child to an adult,
Changing of varieties of natural coats,
Spraying of perfumes available at that time,
I like perfumes and these aerosol clouds,
always match with my fickle atmosphere.
Emit the fragrance to hide their natural odor...Beautiful observations made in the poem. Thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
interesting. thanks for sharing. bri :)