• The Rose

    For my darling,
    I plucked a flower,
    Full of life, of love,
    Full of power.
    The stem of green,
    The glossy red streaks,
    The same beautiful color,
    That stays on her cheeks.
    For my love, I got a rose,
    Cut from the earth,
    On which it once arose.
    This little, flower friend
    Would always rise and bloom,
    But always, at its end,
    It would die, much too soon.