from a crevice of a rock
a black rose grows
it blooms on dark dreams
its petals are the ones that you do not ordinarily
see in the morning
the sun sometimes pays attention
to its being unusual
not being just any rose in the garden
it gives it more light hoping that someday
it may become white
the black rose is faithful
until it wilted
the dews miss it: the black rose is true
to its nature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem