A rose, a rose
A flower of red
Attraction and lust
So fills my head
For it I left my darling Lily
My white and pure perfection
A rose, a rose
A flower of thorns
A passion bright
That scraped and scorned
For it I left my darling Lily
My gentle flower of soul
A rose, a rose
A flower so rare
A boy who promised
But never was there
For him I left my darling Lily
The boy who held my heart
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem