What is a rose but a rose?
What is life but life?
All that seemed or told,
Is sometimes not precise.
The present determines the future.
The present becomes the past.
Nothing last forever
And time will always pass.
The young will build the new
And the old, well I suppose.
But the question still remains,
What is a rose but a rose?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem