I watched a flower since birth,
Then a small plantlet greenish,
Whom eyes won’t distinguish
From the myriads born on the earth.
Grew it thus on its own mirth,
And devoid of any coronary wish,
Arose it then only affectionate kiss;
What a free hand for beauty’s birth!
Afterwards, I saw it budding;
Beauty which earlier knew itself not,
Got now aware of its budding heaviness,
And once small hatchling,
Stood, now, proud for flowery shot
By those full scented petals fresh.
No comments:
Post a Comment