Your beauty unriveled, Its you that I chose,
Petals entwined, a sweet lovely rose.
Prickly thorns protect you in bloom,
Enticing, sweet fragrance,
Drifts in my room.
Never wilting in sunshine,
Radiating so red,
Growing tall in the valley,
In a thick, thorny bed.
The highest trees bend to your grace,
Sending leaves to the ground,
To gaze at your face.
Fine flower of the valley,
Its my love that you tally,
Your beauty so vain,
Growing near the window pane.
Some day, a time when you will wilt,
I reconcile my deepest guilt.
Why then did I not leave you be?
My heart pines vacant, softly for thee.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem