Trust, many-petalled a rare flower,
Easy it never grows on bower.
Mistrust blooms, and trust dies,
Never ‘gain dares to rise,
But should it, shines from a tall tower.
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Reflections | 02.07.15 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mistrust seems its wild variety...so true sir! I find some valid substance at the core of this wonderful Limerick sir...10
Thank you Dr Swain for rating it so liberally