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.