I was beautiful
A rose in bloom, a field mouse
Climbed my stem and fell asleep in the centre
To inhale and sleep in my fragrance.
The rave had no sense of beauty, I was a lure
The struggle was short.
Self-indulgent, I kissed the sun
Nothing untoward had happened
Summers are so short
To be a political revolutionary.
The Rose Revolution in Portugal ended too
And we got social-democracy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem