Sick Rose

Dear rose, you are ill
The invisible worm
Who flies in this stormy night
Found your safety place
The humble rose lays a spur
The dark goat, a frightful horn
While my pale body hates the pleasure
Not a spur not a stain my beauty
The humble rose lays a spur
The dark goat, a frightful horn
While my pale body hates the pleasure
Not a spur not a stain my beauty
His dark and secret love
Destroys your life
I notice the signs of weakness
On your face
His dark and secret love
You are reduced to misery
The humble rose lays a spur
The dark goat, a frightful horn
While my pale body hates the pleasure
Not a spur not a stain my beauty
The humble rose lays a spur
The dark goat, a frightful horn
While my pale body hates the pleasure
Not a spur not a stain my beauty
It’s a poor soil, (the one) where the sun never shines!
Your roads are full of thorns
I feel the chains forged by your mind
There, it’s the eternal winter, in which you searched high and low the birdsong!