• By David B. Gosselin

I Know Why the Red Rose Weeps


I know why the red rose weeps, Why she hides her tears in dew As the summer breezes sweep From those seas of peaceful blue, And then like our dreams, She fades with the morning dew. I know why the red rose weeps Through the dreamy months of June As the golden breezes sweep Over pallid sea rocks, hewn By Neptune’s tide As he guards each sailor’s tomb. And I know why the red rose weeps While birds sing their matin lay And a gentle breeze sweeps Our cares somewhere far away Where the grasshoppers leap And the happy children play. I know why the red rose weeps During dreary September, As autumnal zephyrs keep Songs that are more sober, And the sweetened pine sap seeps Into lonesome October. I know why the red rose weeps Through the month of January As the frigid wind creeps Through her sweet sanctuary And the summer’s cradle Becomes her cemetery. For when the rose parts with its petals And the fragrance of its breath On fleeting breezes settles,

Seeing her beauty bereft While the air carries the ocean's brine Makes life all the more sweet with Death.

I know why the red rose weeps

When her buds have yet to see the day,

When beauty still sleeps

Through flowery May,

And the frost still keeps

Our dreams at bay.

For as when one can almost hear

The sun’s rays dancing

On the golden fields

And each frond spreading

As the wind softly passes

And the skylarks sing, So I know why the red rose weeps, Why she hides her tears in dew, As the golden breezes sweep From those seas of peaceful blue, And then like our dreams, She fades with the morning dew.

David is a translator, poet and linguist based in Montreal.

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