A single flower he sent me, since we met
all tenderly his messenger he chose;
deep-hearted, pure with scented dew
still wet
one perfect rose.
I knew the language of the flower
'my fragile leaves, it said
his heart enclose'
love long has taken for his locket
one perfect rose.
Why is it no one ever sent me yet
one perfect limousine,
do you suppose?
Ah, no it’s always just my luck to get
one perfect rose
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An absolutely flawless way to represent love with one perfect red rose