I don’t get it
You seem to be
A thin petal yearning
A fragile root silently singing
And a little head so proud though weak
Sweet flower
I don’t get it
Who made those colours
What made those drops
Shining like tears down your leaves
Mourning water dresses of dawn
Crying across a death too strong
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem