Rosa

So much, so much, so clear
And so gray.
How strange, strange, strange
That it's so much like this.

Sleepwalker, an Om, squirrel;
I make you laugh.

Is it only like this that I leave without seeing what I didn't see,
Is it that I think I'm leaving and still stay here.

Red, red, gold, rhyme,
Naked the mineral.
And any name was given to it
So thoughtlessly.

They think you don't know anything,
That you can't love.
They say seeing is believing
That it's useless to explain.

They take you from your bed and your mother comes to get you;
Half-lips non-stop can't find you.

The true rose...
Strange rose...

I came from Olympus, clean, beautiful,
Blood-cotton;
Living, sacred, wounded mountain
Sweet, celestial.

It starts like this with such sadness
Everything ends the same, all the same
Everything ends the same, the same

Strange rose...