I took a gentle flower from the bush,
With petals soft and colors bright and lush,
But hidden in its beauty, sharp as a knife,
A thorn that cut deep, causing pain and strife.

I held it in my hand, feeling the sting,
A drop of blood for this love, a painful zing,
Yet still I keep it close, despite the pain,
For in his bond, our love shall forever reign.

The beauty of the flower, the pain of the thorn
Together they symbolize the love we sworm,
A love that's tested, tried, and true,
A love that binds us, me and you.

So I'll bare the pain, the thorns, the strife,
For in your love, I've founf my life.

Trn
Iz grma vzel sem nežno rožo,
res mehak in raznobarven cvet,
a skrit v tej lepoti in oster mi prebode kožo, trn,
ki je branil to lepoto, pod cvetlico je pripet.

V roki sem podržal trnov cvet,
ko zbode me in kapljica krvi na roko kane
moje srce v bolečini zatrepeta v balet,
ker kaplja te krvi le najino ljubezen vname.

Lepota rdeče rože in bolečina iz trna,
naju poveže v večen ples ljubezni.
To ples je preizkušenj, v koraku trden in resničen,
ta kapljica krvi naju za vekomaj poveže.

Zato bom zdržal bolečino, saj jaz zaupam vate,
ko iz grma s trnjem rožo bom utrgal zate.

Tomaž Jevšenak