In my youthful springtime
I walked amid the garden.
I gathered many flowers
In varied lovely hues.
I chose the delicate poppy
That was dearest to my heart.
Little did I realize when
I plucked it and placed it
In a vase, that it would so
Quickly fade and wither.
I was determined not make
The same sad mistake again.
As I began my summer
I fell in love with a crimson rose.
Its stem was strong and sturdy
And when contained with-in a vase
Its petals opened ever slowly and
It became more beautiful with age.
I know that my sweet rose will be
With me through my autumn.
Then one day in my winter
That precious flower that I treasure
Will lose all its pretty petals.
I will gather them together to
Make a fragrant potpourri.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Experience makes a person wise. A very nice and colourful poem.