Little Gifts
B
Bedros Tourian
0
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SHE was alone. I brought a gift —
A rose, surpassing fair;
And when she took it from my hand
She blushed with pleasure there.
Compared with her, how poor and pale
The red rose seemed to be !
My gift was nothing to the kiss
My lady gave to me.
Bu metin şairin özgün dilinde (Fransızca) değil, bir çeviridir.
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
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