My love is a rose
Wilted and worn
My love is a rose
And she plucked all my thorns.
Wilted and worn-
She plucked all my thorns
(Now)
This rose is no more...
Wilted and worn.
You have brought me the sun
And with it the rain
To replenish my pedals
And relinquish the pain
(So)
Tell me your stories
And show me your truths
Take me to the distance
Yet leave me in my roots
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem