Classic Rose Poems and Quotes

“That which God said to the rose, and caused it to laugh in full-blown beauty, He said to my heart, and made it a hundred times more beautiful.”

Rumi
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Original Post
...You will see tradition, earthly and mystical truths, all arranged clearly in knowledge and detail. Do not seek with cold eyes to find blemishes, or the rose will turn to thorns as you gaze...

Mahmud Shabistrari
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“You're beautiful, but you're empty...One couldn't die for you. Of course, an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass, since she's the one I sheltered behind the screen. Since she's the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except the two or three butterflies). Since she's the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she's my rose.”

― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
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Thank you for starting this nice thread Inda.
The roses are all blooming right now.

My Pretty Rose Tree by William Blake

A flower was offered to me;
Such a flower as May never bore.
But I said I've a Pretty Rose-tree.
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.

Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree:
To tend her by day and by night.
But my Rose turnd away with jealousy:
And her thorns were my only delight.

Roses by George Eliot

You love the roses - so do I. I wish
The sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bush. Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be
Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!

A Little Budding Rose by Emily Bronte

It was a little budding rose,
Round like a fairy globe,
And shyly did its leaves unclose
Hid in their mossy robe,
But sweet was the slight and spicy smell
It breathed from its heart invisible.

The rose is blasted, withered, blighted,
Its root has felt a worm,
And like a heart beloved and slighted,
Failed, faded, shrunk its form.
Bud of beauty, bonnie flower,
I stole thee from thy natal bower.

I was the worm that withered thee,
Thy tears of dew all fell for me;
Leaf and stalk and rose are gone,
Exile earth they died upon.
Yes, that last breath of balmy scent
With alien breezes sadly blent!

A Red, Red Rose
by Robert Burns



My love is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June :
My love is like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I :
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun :
And I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only love,
And fare thee weel a while !
And I will come again, my love,
Thou’ it were ten thousand mile.

“She cast her fragrance and her radiance over me. I ought never to have run away from her... I ought to have guessed all the affection that lay behind her poor little stratagems. Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her...”

― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
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...The little prince gazed at them. All of them looked like his flower.
"Who are you." he asked, astounded.
"We're roses," the roses said.
"Ah!" said the little prince.
And he felt very unhappy. His flower had told him she was the only one of her kind in the whole universe. And here were five thousand of them, all just alike, in just one garden.

Antoine de Sant -Exupery from "The Little Prince."
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The little prince went to look at the roses again.

"You're not at all like my rose. You're nothing at all yet," he told them....

..."You're lovely, but you're empty," he went on. "One couldn't die for you. Of course, an ordinary passer by would thjink my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass. She's the one I sheltered behind a screen. Since she's the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except the two or three for butterflies). Since she's the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she's my rose."

Antoine de Saint-Exupery, "The Little Prince."
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“People where you live," the little prince said, "grow five thousand roses in one garden... yet they don't find what they're looking for...

They don't find it," I answered.

And yet what they're looking for could be found in a single rose, or a little water..."

Of course," I answered.

And the little prince added, "But eyes are blind. You have to look with the heart.”

― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
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This thread is soooooooo beautiful and of course I am inspired ... thank you for this! Such exquisite poems and words and pictures!

I have written more than once about roses. Just found these haiku and would like to share them with you (maybe I did before? could be ...) Smile



my picture ...


Roses whisper to me:


*

Come close to my skin
inhale my fragrance then faint
remember in dreams

*

Get lost in my fire
admire my beauty and sigh
passion burns your core

*

My petals of silk
open wide to your keen eyes’
ethereal touch

*

Whispers in the breeze
share secrets of my heart tune
sing my song’s refrain

*

Sip at my colours
pour them onto your canvas
let me be your muse

*


Love and hugs.
Margherita
quote:
Roses whisper to me:*Come close to my skininhale my fragrance then faintremember in dreams*Get lost in my fireadmire my beauty and sighpassion burns your core*My petals of silkopen wide to your keen eyes’ethereal touch*Whispers in the breezeshare secrets of my heart tunesing my song’s refrain*Sip at my colourspour them onto your canvaslet me be your muse


Thank you Margherita for adding so much beauty to this thread.

I have borrowed one of your rose images, a few replies back, from the Roses post, I hope that it is all right?

Arthur Conan Doyle
“What a lovely thing a rose is!"

He walked past the couch to the open window and held up the drooping stalk of a moss-rose, looking down at the dainty blend of crimson and green. It was a new phase of his character to me, for I had never before seen him show any keen interest in natural objects.

"There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary as religion," said he, leaning with his back against the shutters. "It can be built up as an exact science by the reasoner. Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers, our desires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its color are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers.”

― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Naval Treaty
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But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its color are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers.

― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
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