The flowers of magnolia
calm my pain...
Its smell
calms my suffering.
But saddness remained,
the saddness deep in my heart.
It remained the melancholy
of the golden chrysanthemums...
I'm sorry
the flowers of magnolia'll wither -
I'll stay alone
with my saddness,
with my gold melancholy...
What'll I do then?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem