When I see the flowers, I feel shame in calling myself a poet,
When see I the beautifully looming flowers,
So radiant, so colourful and fast,
So sparkling and caclking.
When see I them hanging in the forest tracts,
On the pathways,
Gardening or of a wild variety
Or of the weeds and grasses.
You just see them with love, they will give you pleasure,
So fine, so fresh and fragrant,
Delighting to the core,
So finely poised.
Again, when see I the children in their full inncence
And ignorance of heart,
Strike they me
Without any guile,
I doubt my poetic abilities
In being a poet.
Now you say it to me,
Should I call myself a poet,
As the flowers and the children
More lovely than my poems?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well penned. I agree both flowers and children are always lovely and that is why it catches the imagination of a poet.