the rose swings
in the autumn wind
the little red bud
moves too in a rhythm
it smells good
the bees all after it
day and night it stands
but with little changes
the moon has shone
its silver rays hitting the rose
it seems lonely
and i sit for a wordless talk..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wordless talk, good one, thanks..