A barrier of thorns us separates
But Oh! How I long to kiss thy sweet lips!
For the brilliant passion our love creates
Makes me long for thy fragrant touch of bliss.
Alas, I am without thy face insight.
Forced to continue this blissful torture,
I must await the day in which I might
See thee again in thy youthful splendor
For thou truly art a fresh spring rose, red,
That hath just bloomed now until time doth end.
