We present this work in honor of the 730th anniversary of the poet’s death.
I saw bouquets of fresh roses
Tied upon a cupola of grass.
I asked: “What is despicable grass
To sit also in the line of the roses?”
The grass wept and said: “Hush!
Companionship does not obliterate nobility.
Although I have no beauty, color, and perfume,
Am I not after all the grass of God’s garden?”