Author Dina Nath Nadim A flower spoke to the soil but its pains remained untold; the bushes were pruned but they were trapped in snow. They say the garden is abloom, the sunshine washes the flowerbeds and the cool reigns. [Translated by Arvind Gigoo] Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments