I would that my love were a rosebush in bloom!
I'd set him so tenderly here in my room;
Where through the wide casement the soft breezes play.
I'd watch him and sing to him all the long day.
Where through the wide casement the soft breezes play,
I'd watch him and sing to him all the long day.
And while in the dawn and the dusk of the hours
I cherished its blossoms with fresh e'ning showers,
A whisper would rise, as I bent o'er my tree,
"I love the, my darling, and dost thou love me?"
A whisper would rise as I bent o'er my tree,
"I love thee, my darling and dost thou love me?"
"My daughter what ails the?" my mother might say,
"Thy cheeks are as red as the rising of day!"
I'd answer, "Dear Mother, the rose is to blame,
He breathed on my cheeks and has left them a flame."
I'd answer, "Dear Mother, the rose is to blame,
He breathed on my cheeks and has left them a flame."
English text by Paul England
Friedrich Heinrich Himmel
