With a thorn in my heart,
All these year I have fought,
Restless, eternal peace, I have sought.
Oceans and mountains have past,
And even after all these years I have lost,
I hold no fruit or sweet memories that last.
And now, the thorn has grew,
Into a rose touched by the dew,
And I know it’s since, I love you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.