Rose ( from Rose Book )

Rose


My Garden's Rose, that burn in my Pot,
my enthusiasm daughter, my love martyr!
My great selfish passion strays the petals,
inner secret inhales you.

So, we are alone — I, fickle cicada,
you, ruby-red butterfly in flower—
you have with me a vine leaf,
to preserve beauty and bashfulness...

So what! so naked , fresh and reddish,
rose of Temptation, Impudicity,
you are the Sin itself:
and there is virtue in sinning...

— sin dying in you, bleeding in your thorns,
redeeming in a Wish the mean wishes,
enjoying itself for the Sense of smell
and loving for the Glance...

HSS