Love, as roses are alluring, her rose-briars will hurt,
the wild rose blossom’s in this early spring,
its briars protecting her from her sure fall.

a delicate flower to send forth its profound scent,
in that sunny green vale, I lay,
thinking of love, as birds caroled joyfully.

while there, I took my heart to me,
wondering about all those bright things to be,
when winter’s time is here, all will vanish.

then my visions will be in vain,
but as earth echo’s ends,
and winter’s naked tomb is there.

love will cease like a night’s dreams, floating away,
leaving me with that rose scent, and my creation true.
and thinking of the briar’s hurt.