Roses are dark as night and bright as Day.
Thorns of sythe, petals of play.
Dancing in the night, in the moonlight's ray.
Roots dug deep, petals hung high.
The most beautiful illusion of all time.
Until the rose has withered and died.
It's passion shall alure thy eye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like this much thanks but so sad, i know the feeling