Oh, Heavenly Rose

More, more? What else may she desire: a whole garden shelters her in heaven? The sun bathing her petals is the holy fire, a cockerel is not her awakening warden but a chorus of angels playing flute and lyre. Yet, she asks: more, more! Oh, Heavenly Rose! She does not sleep, what upsets her repose? What a rose could not be, if not all I can see? Should I dare and give a rose to another rose? Will she accept, can the three fates foresee when the golden gateway will unclose? Why can’t you sleep? Oh, heavenly Rose! Maybe, I dream within a dream and there a rose is all other roses, her keen lips are one too and her homely belly where a blossom still to bloom calmly sleeps is a meadow that other buds will revere? If I dream, why waking? Oh, Heavenly Rose! Drop the dark eyes, sweet scented maid, the mysterious twins of your scarlet face, answer if the heart where a seed is laid is not a flower with the same cherry grace? Dawn approaches, the scents of night fade, Tell with your shy eyes. Oh, Heavenly Rose! A hidden rose do you save for the night, the moon concealing her silver radiance, when a beggar dressed as a bright knight lay at your side and with his word’s dance incite your petals to bloom with white light. Wait, wait for the night. Oh, heavenly Rose!