The rose said: I brought a gold-scattering hand:
Laughing, laughing, have I blown into the world;
I snatched the noose-string from off the head of my purse, and I am gone!
I flung into the world all the ready money I had:
Lit.
If only one dare tell the lovely things
The nightingale unto the red rose sings!
“See! I am Yusuf’s flower,” the red rose cries,
And wide and warm her sanguine bodice flings.
Le Gallienne