In the dark days of turmoil,
I moved in and out of grace.
I savoured the aromas
Of wild, exotic flowers:
Of every hue and shade;
Blessed & shaped by sun & rain.
I cruelly cut them down;
Desperate to claim their secrets.
Their fragile beauty faded.
So I crushed them with my bare hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Desperate to claim their secrets yesterday's flowers keep power to re-bloom in this Earth with hope and dignity. An interesting sharing is done here.10