Petals fall
It is white
"Is this white? " I smile.
"It is cream; maybe beige."
This time laugh,
"It's neither; it is rose."
"It is white rose."
(Rose means red.)
I laugh at funny name.
I stand and stare
Not one rose but roses
Young and old, in mid-age
Odor's nice.
A feeling crawls in
Like sand dunes and snake
Petals fall, one by one
Buds careless; and smile
Esthetic of their lives
Ignorant of petals
Melancholic
Nostalgic
Cathartic
I'm thinking
"That is I...it is me."
"The first years are the buds."
I look, think.
"They're coming and laughing
Filled with hope
I'm fourth year; soon will go."
School is a garden
Regardless
University, Primary, or the high or college
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem