The Rose

The red rose

gathered yesterday;

fire and cinnamon

called carnation;

baking bread

anise with honey,

and the fish of the vial

which makes it burn:

todito yours

son of woman,

as long as you want

once asleep.

The pink, I say:

carnation say.

Fruit, I say,

and I say honey;

and the fish of lights

and more and more also,

So you sleep

until sunrise!