Don't be angry; O Princess florist!
Merely my objectives not to make mess in your garden,
Want to touch your flower with ash-anointed hand;
Touch!
What begets?
Countless incidents can be happened,
Or nothing can be happened;
Touch!
Heard engrossed touch begets a sharp line of bluish lustre
And that line passed over asymptote at a quick pace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Want to touch your flower! Thanks for sharing this lovely poem with us.