The flowers were still with bent head
Though it was dawning: the flowers
Had started bending by the red dusk
And in the night they looked
Askance at the beauty of the night-stars
For they did not want
To lose such beauty
Keep awake as to
Feel on them
The drizzling of night-dews
Sweet drizzling
Welcome joy
They deemed superior to the Dawn
So
They were not so much surprised
At the new Dawn although
Not less glad for it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem