O Sweet red roses,
Thou art gifted with beauty,
Yet cursed with thorns,
Lover adores thee,
Raising thee high;
Above the pedestal,
Devoted to thy beauty.
O Sweet red roses,
How full of beauty art thou,
Still thy beauty shall not last,
Engulf by thy thorns,
Thou suffocate thyself,
Thy beauty shall be a memory,
To those who revere thee.
O Sweet red roses,
A symbol of love,
Thy splendor shall remain,
From generations to come,
Thou shall be a marvel,
Until the end of time.
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