those beautiful flowers
whose soft heady scent
gives me raptures of joy,
are no more to be seen.
always in my minds eye
i behold, mothers garden, as a child,
see my lovely scented sweet peas,
in a long latticed row, stretched,
whispering and beckoning me
to bury my face in there sweetness!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
While the garden is in your memory it always grows as do you grow aflower of that beautiful garden.10