Flowers never last,
but leave those fragrant memories behind,
for us to later cherish those memories that never die,
just keep coming to us with thoughts of happiness,
for sake of pure joy, enjoy it while it lasts.
Flowers never speak, So they never lie,
But they do speak in a language, a language called love,
and express their love for us, even while being crushed under our feet.
Flowers don't move on their own,
their real purpose is to move us, so we've grown,
In this mysterious garden called life,
where we bloom as flowers and to wilt away with time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem