The Bloom Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
The Bloom
A flower
On the wayside, I saw a beautiful flower
it was deep purple, among working-class weed
and I thought it suffered greatly.
I picked the flower put it in a vase only to see it die of loneliness.
Next day I went back to where I had picked
the purple flower and the weed said: why
did you do this to us we may make fun of the flower
But we like beauty too
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/24/2026 11:37:37 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
