Fleetingly It Hanged In Beauty Poem by Gert Strydom

Fleetingly it hanged in beauty
and flowered in that summer,
a deep-red rose caught on a thorny branch,
in loveliness, as beauty only comes once

and time and again I was astounded by you;
no elements, drought, rain or sun
could disguise your splendour
and you flowered glorious like only a rose can.

There are thorns that had left marks on my fingers;
I still see that rose, looking somewhat different than before,
but glorious and delicate

and I wonder about your fleeting brightening
if it brings love or pain?