A rose Sweet and buetiful
Red as the apple on an apple tree
It glistens as the wet mist damps its shining pettals
As time pasts the petals will soon fall to the ground and the rose starts ageing all alone the beutiful rose waits for someone to come and choose her but as time past she was alone no one to pick her and take her home with them as time went on and on her pettals slowly fell to the groundsoon this rose was no more....alone alone was her fate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
...but not lonely :) It's better to be alone, than with somebody who would make you feel lonely... thank you for sharing :)