There’s a beautiful picture in my room,
a picture of a red, red rose.
It’s a reminder to me of the beauty
that in nature always grows.
Though only a painting in a frame
it captures the colors, the hues
that the artist could see in her mind
and know what paints to use.
I see this picture on each new day.
And never tire from its sight.
I also see the one who painted it
before I retire at night.
She encompasses the beauty of the rose
that she painted for me.
And I, the lucky recipient of this gift
see both the rose and she.
For Marijana
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem