Her purposed love is crossed with the thorns
His heart -no bed of roses; she mourns
She visits her garden before the morning
Before the dawn she stops her mourning
For the daylight seems to chide her tears
And the inked smile on rosy lips smears
The blot of pain from the past few years
As those roses are here with the fragranced fears
Now alone she sits in memorable garden
Where roses appear to be her only burden
Written 26th March,2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem