没有人知道这朵小玫瑰——
若不是我将它从道旁摘下
捧起它献给你
它或许是一位朝圣者
只有蜜蜂会思念它——
只有蝴蝶，
长途奔忙——
只为在它的胸脯上停歇——
只有鸟儿感到疑惑——
只有微风不住叹息——
啊，像你这样的，小玫瑰
多么轻易就凋谢！
Nobody knows this little Rose—
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee
Only a Bee will miss it—
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey—
On its breast to lie—
Only a Bird will wonder—
Only a Breeze will sigh—
Ah Little Rose—how easy
For such as thee to die!