The young writer was thoroughly puzzled,
He was trying to explain the beauty of the great rose,
He thought to write it in a magnificent way,
For this the writer imitated many eminent writers of his choice,
But again and again he failed to depict the beautiful flower in a delightful way.
Finally being frustrated, he began to delineate the lovely rose purely with his own words,
When he finished it,
He found that he had perfectly succeeded to portray the true grandeur and splendour of the great rose;
The great writer jumped in an ecstasy,
He became a blithe spirit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem