My Sweet English Rose
Sweet wine of youth
In blushing red
Resting in splendour
Upon your bed.
Around your head
A Crown of Thorn
An incarnation
Of One reborn.
True monarch of the
Bedraggled hedge
Who meanders in haste
To perform her pledge.
To flower at will where
The summer wind blows
In bush and hedge my
Sweet English Rose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem