She coiled her shoots around his broad and ancient chest,
Her tendrils tried to touch his cold, cold heart.
But those who know the nature of the rock and of the rose,
Could sense their love was blighted from the start.
All summer long she lay against his breast and softly sighed,
He kept her sheltered from the storms and bitter winds,
And all she longed for was to be there by his side,
and when the summer passed, her flowers died.
Spring came, and once again the wild rose kissed her lover as she woke,.
But still he stood there cold and still, - a stony heart, a granite will.
She longed to hear a loving word, but not a word he spoke,
and long before the year had passed, - her gentle heart had broke.
Buds burst, she cast her seeds upon the stony ground,
But, winter came and washed her dreams away.
Once more the spring but not a sight or sign of her was found,
The rock awoke and missed her touch, and sadly looked at where her withered branches lay.
A single tear, a long and silent sigh that lasted all the summer long.
That single tear had pierced his stony heart, and deep inside he cried.
And all that year he stood alone and sad, but still so proud and strong.
The icy winter chills bit deep inside, and in the winter of that year he died.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem