for it was just a flower on the far
side of my garden
it's fallen, and turned brown.
what is it? just a flower the has hardened.
it was my beloved, my love. it was tortured, and thrown above.
a beatuiful rose it was that rose above the wall
...how did i not see? when my rose
began to fall.
for it was just my beloved flower,
tortured and loved, and always grew
by the hour
but why do i cry for the lost flower of mine?
i am just the wind in the trees,
and the water in the air combined.
i couldnt keep it alive,
that beloved rose of mine......
fot it was just a flower on the far side of my garden;
too far for the eye to see
it's absent went unnoticed......
but why do i cry for the lost flower of mine?
i am just the wind in the trees,
and the water in the air combined.
i couldnt never keep it alive,
that beloved rose of mine..
but on the far side of my garden,
where the air and water cobine, i sit and cry
for the lost rose of mine,
for my beloved that i never will find.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem