There was a rose,
a red, red rose,
on the side of a rocky hill
that overlooked a verdant valley
near a clear and gentle rill.
In the fleeing hours
that spiral and spiral
I have tried to find beauty once more,
but one cannot retrieve
the blush nature decrees
must someday fade away
as from a red, red rose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem