Where is thy rose?
I do not see it in my hand
but I see blood pouring from my vision
for thy thorns have pricked me
Where is thy rose?
I do not see it in my hand
but there is a scent that lingers so sweetly
for thy perfumer I smell so strongly
Where is thy rose?
I see it now in my garden
with bloody thorns
and a perfume so sweet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem