A poem by the Danish Romantic poet Adam Oehlenschläger

Hvor blev I røde Roser dog

Hvor blev I røde Roser dog

Fra Ungdoms Dage glade?

I min Erindrings Psalmebog

Jeg giemmer Eders Blade.

Og skiøndt hvert Blad er guult og graat,

Som Farven af de Døde,

Den Sommerdag jeg mindes godt,

Da de var purpurrøde.

I deres fine Væv endnu

Jeg kiender hver en Aare.

Som for af Morgen duggen, nu

Den fugtes af min Taare.

Where are you now, you roses red

Where are you now, you roses red

From days of youth so blissful?

I keep your petals long since shed

In recollection’s missal.

And though each petal’s dull and grey,

Its shade like those departed,

I still recall the summer day

When crimson they all started.

In their silk weave I still can view

Each vein so finely fretted.

Once moistened by the morning dew,

Now by my tears it’s wetted.