Think of poetry as flowers,
Why can they be not,
Roses pink and red?
Dreamy and lovely,
Picturesque and imagistic,
Artistic and florid
With the tender and soft petals.
Poetry as a bouquet of flowers
With a red rose, a white chrysanthemum,
A crimson dahlia and the leaves.
And what to say it more about the wild blossoms,
Nature’s bounty and blessing,
The wilds full with a variety of hues and colours?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem