On a wooden table
I stare at this glass vase
In your brown eyes I am lost.
This is a hard case.
In it there is a red rose.
Reminds me of you,
In its delicate pose.
If you wish to smell this rose,
Do not break its twig,
It is so sensitive so fragile.
Takes so much time to grow
It is miraculous, it lives on a desert.
Has any of its thorns bitten you?
Has it hurt your soft fingers?
Just waits for your heavenly smell
Never goes away, it just lingers.
Keep whispering love words
Let it face no reproves.
Only food it needs is hidden in your heart
Do not deprive it of your burning breath.
Grant it life not death.
Water it sweet, add no bitter one.
The leaves are tired, branches are weak.
No longer can it endure pain.
Like me it is on a dead end lane
Do not cause any drought
So that it doesn't wither.
Let it have a new sprout.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem