The White Rose, Attilio Bertolucci, 1934
"I will pick for you
the last rose of the garden,
the white rose that blooms
in the first mists.The greedy bees visited her
until yesterday,
but it's still so sweet
that makes you tremble.
It's a portrait of you at thirty,
a little forgetful, as you will be then.”
Attilio Bertolucci, The White Rose, 1934
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