Che Sara Sara

She walked in the gardens

And a rose hung on a tree,

Red as heart’s blood,

Fair to see.

“Ah, kind south-wind,

Bend it to me!”

But the wind laughed softly,

And blew to the sea.

High on the branches,

Far above her head,

Like a king’s cup

Round and red.

“I’m comely.”

The maiden said,

“I have gold like shore-sand,

I wish I were dead!”

“Blushes and rubies

Are not like a rose,

Through its deep heart

Love-life flows.

Ah, what splendors

Can give me repose!

What is all the world worth?

I cannot reach my rose.”

Rose Ferry Cooke

• Che sara sara… means in Italian “ what will be will be”…