The Blind Flower-Seller Poem by nimal dunuhinga
The Blind Flower-Seller
With the cane basket
and the white cane
She comes to the Sunday market
Sitting on the small bench
She sells different colors of flowers
Though she cannot see
By each fragrance of them
She knows the name and the pedigree too?
And I sniff a rare fragrance while passing
that comes from her hidden little-heart flower?
to my deceased poet friend Paddy Martin!
nimal dunuhinga
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 2:20:15 AM # 1.0.0.1119
