No matter how beautiful it is,
if it won’t seduce me
with its fragrance,
if it won’t greet me
with its warm heart,
it would be just
a flower in a vase,
a unnecessary attraction to innocent bystanders,
a cheap decoration in a so-so restaurant.
The flower that was thrown in the garbage can
even before it was touched by my hands.
I’ve written poems for this flower, so
If I excrete it from my mind,
It will bequeath beautiful poems, but
the flower I dumped,
whose flower will it become and
be thrown away again?
‘Cause of my spirit of mercy,
It would take long to realize that
I’ve been trashed by the flower…