In the breeze of the morning she danced,
And oh, how she blossomed!
As the soft rays of the sun kissed,
Gently caressed, her petals.
Yet gazing at the sky with radiance, with pride,
The heat came out in full blaze and oh!
How she died!
You were her morning,
In you she gloried.
You were her everything
Yet she, your nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.