Ah, the Rose
I have never understood the cause
Why I touch and smell the rose
It suddenly, pricks my hand to bleed
“Ah, don’t!” – in pain, I scream indeed.
I speak to the rose: won’t you tell me,
Beauty, for others, therefore, for me
God gave you the fragrance to emit
Why do you attract and then prick?!
From branches, a golden-feathered hawk
Says, as if teasing: yet you know not
That the core of the rose
Is neither smell nor beauty
But only its thorns…
Translation from Albanian into English
By Alfred Kola
