Rusted curled, 
Yet not forgotten.
A part of God's Eternal plan.
Here, now and forever; 
Not misbegotten
A shard of beauty, 
From a delicate hand.
Golden yellow, 
Rustic red, 
Veined rich
in Bulbous form; 
To be buried deep, 
In warm soft yielding earth, 
Now...almost ready to transform.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    