The late rose, <br />Glowing with sun tints, making pink lips tipsy, <br />This afternoon to open finally chose. <br /> <br />Thrown into tizzy, <br />I stand at the gate – so strange! - to note <br />That clouds over the streets do float and float. <br /> <br />I catch sight, quickly: <br />The dew shakes a white dress - which chum? <br />Oh no! ... Springtime has here so long come. <br /> <br />Unintentionally <br />My hair has grown grey <br />Together with time that passes fast away. <br />Where will the rose resettle <br />Of its each petal! <br /> <br /><br />Nhuan LeXuan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-late-rose/
