In springtime, I pay a visit,
to a tulip garden beneath
the foothills.
And told tulip bud my melancholy,
She shed a tear and said,
'My goodness, you people have insured lives,
We too don't receive better care unless somebody waters us.
I saw a tear in her trembling eye
And then she gifted me a tray of perfumes as a souvenir of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem