(Thoughts of an elderly teacher who developed love towards one of his pupils - she never knew it)
My sweet rose…
Look here…have a look on myself
I am your “elderly” wasp
Prince you never expected even in a dream.
When you bloom
As a bright moon in the dark sky
I long to recite the untold poem to you
It’s alright you may set down.
Want to open the windows
In my lonely closet
please dropp into
No hard feelings though you won’t
But my rose,
Please have a look
I am your elderly wasp.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem