lily is a wildflower.
she is hearty and strong
she blossoms in both peace and adversity
in manicured gardens and abused roadsides.
she is tall, towering over the daisies and roses that some pursue.
she is not small and delicate
but broad and strong,
and can withstand harsh winds and resist plucking.
she is not the common pinks or whites of other saught after blooms
but is red as blood, yellow as the sun, or a flaming orange.
she grows under her own terms, satisfied with her existence in creation, and worries for nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You painted a beautiful portrait of yourself with your words, very clever!