Your blood-red petals gleam,
Catching to the eye.
In my bed of death,
There you will lie.
A token of love, death, and hate,
You strike the feelings so.
Your brilliance is like venom,
Causing comfort or woe.
You stand in solitude,
Distant from the rest.
With sleek sharp thorns,
You can judge them best.
Red, yellow, or black,
You shine in every hue.
Blood is the price to pay,
To those who want to hold you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
superb with such good observation, , i like it~10~