A flower, masterly built,
By the crafty hand of the builder of all things
No guile, no error for His hands never err
So she is.
So glorious, all glorious
So beautiful, all beautiful.
Precious, without waste
Or which part of her is wastable?
Elegantly virtous, desired by all.
Her cost who can pay?
What happens if this flower is defiled ?
It loses it virtues.
What happens if this flower is beaten?
It loses it beauty.
What happens if this flower is broken?
It loses it stand.
What happens if this flower is vulgarly abused ?
It loses it esteem.
What happens if she is neglected without care ?
It withers in solitude.
What happens if made tattered ?
It loses the glory of it appearance.
What happens if poured a stink ?
It loses it aura.
What happens when not allowed to expresses?
It owe life debt of incomplete expression.
With a delicate care, care for her as a weaker vessel.
Love it, make it glow more.
Nuture it, make it grow bigger.
Care for it, let the leave be wider.
Do such precious beauty deserve the molestation of various degree and kind of years met out to her as portions ?
If we make all our flowers like a deflated tire,
What beautifies our land?
When there is no ornaments of beauty,
What attraction does the land carry?
Tender as rose, when treated harsh, it loses it beauty.
So also she, when pinned by the thorn of the heart, does her beauty remain?
An ornament of inestimable value should not be treated as trash.
If you do, the beauty of the land dimes away
The treasure of the land fades off.
Even the glory because no one to ark the children we pride in.
Treat our beauty, our flowers , the mothers of our land right.