The rose bows its head
From the hedge to the shade,
In the whispering calm
Of the cool colonnade,
Unravelling dreams and deeds
As it unfurls the heavy scent
I tried to reach,
Its poisonous dreams so clear,
Where death is death
And joy is joy so sweet.

And I forgot your tattered head,
Your rain battered dress
And I forgot your dark caress...
I want your thorns to cut my flesh,
My sallow flesh.

Your petals fall
But your thorns they remain,
Though seasons I want
For your blood flower again;
And wisdom and time they tried
To scorn your world
But in the rose I will believe,
Your pleasure, your pain, your dreams
Where death is death
And joy is joy so sweet.