The bud is in the rose,
Secrecy sits in the middle and knows,
Love abandoned, fades until it's gone,
Weary souls come along.
Precious pedals,
Growing too big from little,
Accept the secret now,
Or forever hold that peace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful. Growth and presence in the midst of trials and falsehood.