A Girl, a Boy, a Rose
Act I
Evening. A boy offer to a girl in a balcony a white rose.
Flower among wild flowers, white flower, white rose,
Come now to the balcony and stretch your hand fair.
I shall boon you with a flower worth to be your pair:
Flower among wild flowers, white flower, white rose,
If my name do not cause you shame or a light blush,
Then give it to the four winds and offer me a trade:
Your name so I can follow the open road ahead
In the woods of ancient trees and newborn lush.
I climb to you under the crimson lover’s moon
And leave after in your lips I see a new bloom.
Even for the sun, it is hard to go in a maiden’s room,
The window’s glass does not mean to halt his strike,
Both heat and love can be gentle and scorching alike:
Even for the sun, it is hard to go in a maiden’s room.
Without a key, even the wind will remain outside,
A key with gold and silver blending also so rare
That truth and beauty merge with the same share.
Is it true? I will keep my purity and forfeit my pride.
Oh, give me a full moon night to dream and return
With another boon to make my face and heart burn.
Act II
The girl goes to the backyard of her house where we see a rose tree.
Oh, my heart wakes with such sweet melody.
I wonder if angels are dancing while hearing.
How is it possible? My heart is under custody
of three small words, my eyes are now tearing:
what do I see in the three of my youth days?
A rose is gone? And the same rose that I hold?
Now a sharpening grasp on my heart I can feel,
Why the truth was hidden, why didn’t he told
He came to steal? Better if he also tried to steal
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days?
Act III
Before the balcony. It is morning. The boy is alone. With another rose.
The girl came with a hand on her bosom,
Carrying white roses on an osier basket.
“here” ,she said and then a white cascade
Appeared and covered the young lad,
“do not stand still, why just one blossom?
Better to love as many as you can get,
Make all flowers, all white roses be mine,
And my heart will be your love’s shrine.
The boy danced under the white rain:
“Tomorrow”, he said, “I will steal again”.
Copyright © João Camilo | Year Posted 2012
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