Life’s not a bed of roses but a dahlia
that withers after bursting into bloom,
a troubled preparation for the failure
eluding us until we reach the tomb.
Robert Hughes once said that Mark Rothko's life was a 'long, troubled preparation for a failure that eluded him' (Michael Kimmelman, in 'Rothko's Gloomy Elegance in Retrospect, ' NYT, September 18,1998) .
9/18/98
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem