A propósito de Beleza...



WHERE THE WILD ROSES GROW

"They call me the Wild Rose
but my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day

From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grewn down the river, all bloody and wild

When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would by my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face

On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I´d seen
I said Do you know where the wild roses grow?
So sweet and scarlet and free?

On the second day he came with a single red rose
said: Will you give me your loss and your sorrow?
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said If I show you the roses will you follow?

On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist

On the last day I took her where thw wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, thw wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said All beauty must die
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth"


Nick Cave - in Murder Ballads (1996)