I saw a Primrose today, I doubt it saw me
As it peeped, coyly from amongst the long grass.
How can such hope and promise be held
In such a small shy flower?
It holds the yellow of the sun in its pale face
A promise of the warmth of spring and summer.
The cold is past, and nature now wakes
All her sleeping children.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem