It’s not that easy to die
how do you say,
I thought a rose in him
path,
lonely, already tired of the cold,
He wept bitterly for his fate.
It’s not so easy to live
how do you say,
a little bird chirped weakly,
for having the life that you
have,
it would be icy pink
cold.
Tired of its trill,
the bitter and resentful rose,
did not utter words of
comfort,
to the little bird that at his side
He was dying.
But…the pain was such
of the little bird,
that the rose, for its life
unfortunate, forgot for a
moment his sadness,
and gently told him
Very short:
Don’t suffer, little bird,
and let yourself be carried away by your
wings, up there
in the always clear sky,
you will find one more life
pretty.
And the bird lulled by
the Rose,
their wings pregnant with stars,
rose smiling
hopeful, believing
words of her friend.
The rose did not understand
that she wants to die,
He didn’t die,
and the little bird with a desire to live,
it no longer existed.
As days go by
and the nights,
the lonely rose has understood,
that his life, although sad and
lonely,
gives beauty to the roadside.
And they say that the rose at the end
he was convinced,
that life and death,
is given to us,
and looking up to the sky
every day,
See in him, his beauty reflected!
