You are a rose, made without trying.
soft pedals where worries fall,
a gentle kind of beauty, not to be proven at all
no hurrying flowering, no momentary gleam.
But steady as you are, like something to be worshipped
close as well as far
if I had to choose a sign for all the feelings, you've given me
it would not be a perfect rose, but one that blooms so naturally.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem