When I see the beautiful flowers blooming around,
I forget it that I am a poet
And what is it in my poetry to pride over,
The beautiful flowers fail the poems
Which compose I to boast of
My poetic greatness?
The roses, the marigolds, the dahlias, the poppies,
The chrysanthemums, the sunflowers,
The calendulas, the balsams,
The night-queens, the jasmines,
What can be more beautiful than theses
Which fail the fairies too?
Their fragrance and sweetness, beautifulness and loveliness,
Dreamy panorama and dazzling hue,
Bright colour and fancy of imagery,
God-gifted beauty,
Even my best poems cannot compete with
With their beauty and colour.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem