There is a rose
that has not bloomed yet.
This rose is still a bud.
Yet this bud full of thorns
I shall share with you,
because you are my only love.
The sharpest thorn on this bud
I will touch with my finger,
then lay my finger on your lips,
and let you kiss away the pain.
You will do the same with your finger,
and I will do the same with my lips.
Yet this rose with its roots,
we shall bury to let other lovers find,
and repeat this love theme
the same way as you and I.