A sober black shawl hides her body entirely,
Touched by the sun and the salt spray of the sea,
But down in the darkness a slim hand so lovely,
Carries a rich bunch of red roses for me.

No arrogant gem is enthroned on her forehead,
Or hangs from a white ear for all men to see,
But down in the depth of her bosom so pearly,
She carries a rich bunch of red roses for me.

Her petticoat simple, her feet are both bare,
And all that she owns is both neat and scanty,
But their in the deeps, her eyes are explaining,
She carries a rich bunch of red roses for me.