To the Jasmine flower

My sweet jasmine flower,
I come to you,
thinking of you
and letting your fragrance flow.

To the thorns that bled
my hands,
I place the red rose
at the center of my heart.

To innocent love,
to imminent accident
and marked memory:
I pay heed to all that I lack.

For to arrive
one must depart,
and to transform myself
I must roar within.

Planting in the sacred soil,
the true rose,
of purely red hue,
with blood watering your trail.

Leaving parts of me
along your path,
and carrying with me
the memory of being vulnerable,
lying on the ground of your asphalt.

Ah, my sweet jasmine flower,
when I sense your perfume,
I will know my end has come
and I will gently follow you.

○êýs²