January's slow by nature's law
Enburdened by woes of a new born year.
All resolutions made last, gathering dust
Till February comes with a cupid's valet.
Violets and roses afresh, refresh our love vows
A rose for Mary with white carnations bound.
She smells my bouquet till March's tides swell
When her heart turns with the flowers' wilt.
Shall I grow roses and carnations plenty?
And plant my vows in her heart's soul,
That every day may be a merry day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem