A Farewell to Roses

As the year closes
I say goodbye to all
The roses

They were not their appearance

So much young blood
Foolishly spilt
Into the wretchedness of earth

Poets have fed roses
For far too long

The hungry red beasts
Of golden troubadours

The nodding priestess
In the long forgotten garden

What shapes what figures
Have stood charmed
And unarmed
Teaching statues hot tears
And horned Time harshest scorn

Man was not born
For Beauty

But for Beauty’s thorns

Dan Corjescu teaches at the University of Tübingen's "Studium Professionale" program. Read other articles by Dan.