I asked for a rose
but you promised me a rose garden.
Your promise was forgotten
and you sent me a bouquet of paper roses.
Now in the grave I am waiting;
will you lay a white rose in my remembrance
or a yellow rose for friendship?
If not, at least a luscious blade of grass you
please bring.
But never bring those colourful paper roses
that are fragile though very beautiful;
with no sweet fragrance of love at all
or better you come in empty hands.
For at least once you come to my grave
to pluck your roses from my plant
which are still fresh beneath the bottom of
my heart;
butneverdrenchthemwithyour tears of coloured love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem