Where are you now, you roses red
From days of youth so blissful?
I keep your petals long since shed
In recollection’s missal.
And though each petal’s dull and grey,
Its shade like those departed,
I still recall the summer day
When crimson they all started.
In their silk weave I still can view
Each vein so finely fretted.
Once moistened by the morning dew,
Now by my tears it’s wetted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem