Let roses up to the heaven shine
I bet none of them can be like mine
The sweet of my heart that's so fine
So just let her be for my soul the vine
Morning or night she will be my sky line
And for her I would make the week out of nine
Oh just to feel her she's better than wine
My heart, My eyes, My soul, and out of my tears to you I'll make a Rhine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem