Milagre de Santo António

I found abandoned
A rose that I gave you
So sad and desolate
Almost dead, despised
I felt sorry and stopped

It was beautiful like no other
Today sad and poor
I wasn't to blame after all
That you thought badly of me
And didn't want to be mine

But Saint Anthony who was
There nearby, in prayer
Asked me if I would lend him
That flower that I loved so much
And had picked up from the ground

I gave him what he asked for
And he prayed again
It was night, it became day
And the rose that was aging
Became a bud suddenly