To A Rose
(Ayer naciste y morirás mañana;)
Born but yesterday, to die next dawn;
Living so swiftly, who gave you life?
Being so briefly, you shine brighter,
Fresher for not being nothingness!
Though your vain beauty deceives you,
You must shortly see it fade,
Because within such beauty hides
The promise of an early death.
When a strong hand gathers you,
According to the gardener’s laws,
A harsher breath will end your life.
Do not leave, may some tyrant guard you;
Prolong your birth now, through existence,
Who through existence bring your death.
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