The bride of heaven, world's treasure, child of stars!
For whom love sighs, and I myself, the sun, do pant,
Because her crown is golden, and her leaves are velvet,
Her foot and stylus emerald, her brilliance shames the ruby.
Other beings possess only single beauties,
Nature has made the rose beautiful with all at once.
She is ashamed, and blushes
Because she sees all the other flowers stand ashamed before her.
In Rose Love he finds the reflection of love in everything:
In whom does not Love's spirit plant his flame?