Red Rose, May I Ask You?
Who Has Made You So Beautiful?
Why Are You So Beautiful?
The red rose
With the petals dew-laced and splashed with
Sweetness and redolence, fragrant and charming
Telling of the morning serenade.
And suppose you passing through the way
Pausing by to hear the girl singing the song of heart
In the bungalow of hers.
The song of life, the song of heart as such
That it touches the heart
If you sing it soulfully.
I passing by
But my eyes fixed on the beauty of the bungalow,
The charming girl.
After all, whose is this sketch,
Whose is this colouring and painting
Of the lively photo of the girl?
A maid so attractive and charming,
Sweet and beautiful,
A love never seen again.
To bloom like a shy and coy mistress,
To smell of fragrance and fascinate,
This the joy of your life and living.
Red Rose, what is it the myth of your fragrance,
What is the mystery of your beauty
Maddening it all?
On seeing you, feel I someone playing the melodies
So sweetly, so beautifully
And I carried by the saddest-sweetest remembrances and their tinge of pain.
As if someone was playing the guitar and the orchestra in full in music
And singing with a sweet and painful voice of his or her
And the music taking me far away.
My heart fills it with pain, the pain of joys and sorrows
With a tinge of their own
And I carried away by the melodies.
And hearing the music, I am not within, forgetting the presence,
Going away, going far and far away
With the music and melodies.
Like some dream girl, you singing the song,
Golden-haired and bobbed
And the song and golden voice striking the heart directly.
The music with the saddest melodies making the heart
Ache with the tinge of the sweetest and saddest
Memories and remembrances of life.
The song of love as the song of love taking me back to
My old days, the older memories and reflections of mine
And I growing nostalgic and homesick.
