Mauve, black, and rose,
The veils of the jewel, and she, the jewel, a rose.
First, the pallor of mauve,
A soft flood flowing about the body I love.
Then, the flush of the rose,
A hedge of roses about the mystical rose.
Last, the black, and at last
The feet that I love, and the way that my love has passed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem