As softly greeting a morning sky,
Gone is the memory of the storm,
When all of nature was gone awry-
But summer's come, and it's warm!
Red rose red and butterfly yellow,
Dauntlessly lovely, raging wild.
Where did all the smoky skies go?
Wrathful fury gone sweet and mild!
A yellow blur flits to tangy bloom-
And then bluebirds begin to sing!
Mere memory now is that day of doom,
Green leaves in treetops wavering.
The aroma of rose lingers so strong,
Like dew clings to the morning grass,
After gathering the whole night long,
To kiss us any time we should pass.
And when the sun's been lost to moon,
And comes the despair that they die-
Bear in mind the hot, sun baked noon,
Of thorny rose and steely butterfly!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Rose And Butterfly, the poem as beautifully crafted as are the rose and butterfly
I am gladdened by your comment, Aniruddha. Thank you so much.