Pincushion flowers' tendrils spread;
The yellow blossoms burst
Like fireworks launched to celebrate
A wrong that's been reversed.
Their sunny joyous jubilee
Makes bright their verdant sky.
They hold up high their tender hands
To ev'ry passerby.
There's glory in the two combined:
The sparkle and the glee
That draws one close to bloom or man
Most irresistibly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem