Who put me as a seed
into the earth?
Who gave me strength to grow? I feel the warmth,
the tender rays of sun,
I grow.
I will not be a weed,
I know. The rain has moistened me,
my leaves need freedom,
so, I break the earth
and there I'll feed them. I am a rose now,
a motley-colored one,
but I have thorns,
afraid of none. And I'll please the world
and act in tender ways
I'll send my thanks to God
dispersing warmest rays.