Calendula: THE CALENDULA
When smelling between the soft grass
is the violet,
your short color golden petals
show me, o flower!
Summer is coming, and in Amaranth
The plane tree leaf is already discolored,
And when the flowers on the vague stem
recline the frost,
of you, Calendula, is not a measure
Because constant follow to bloom
without dying? ...
Because they are a symbol of what is designed
Tell me how old I am, maiden
free of troubles? ...
I remind you of a constant flower,
dear "the Pain".