Give me not your daffodils
Or your roses dying;
Stain not these petals with your tears,
Your breath, your quiet crying.
Give to me your mortal days,
Your nights of flesh and sighing;
Give me life, not withered leaves,
For when deprived I'm dying.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Give to me your mortal days.. we need them more they too wilt though.