Born is a rose mild in monsoon wild
Shinning with tender smiles of a child
Dancing her head in the lovely wind
Fragrance exhale amusing the wind
Like an angel blest from the Heaven
Arrived in my heart and won.
Reborn’s she to lit ever my life
Blowing fresh air into deadly strife;
Far away death’s to ravage her beauty
Thought I, her heart’s a niche for me;
The draught so jealous and down-pour fierce
Kissed her petals and cursed her to tears;
Lost I have my niche and her nice heart
Grow thorns of seclusion still in my heart.