Wood the flower flails,
So sad is now that vase,
None else to ever know,
That flower has joined the breeze,
Never to harvest new blooms.
Flower failed the wood a well,
A mothers dreary tail again to see,
To mix two hearts of one must she,
There beds now like the rest unmade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This one is very interesting. Conjures many images and possibility's. Always keeping me on my toes you are. Always reading each with curiosity.... :)