Tchaikovsky: Legenda (Legend;The Crown of Roses) Op. 54, No. 5]

When Jesus Christ was yet a Child, he had a Garden small And wherein he Cherished roses Fair and wove them Into garlands there. Now once at summertime Through nigh there came Troop of children By, And seeing roses on the Tree, With shouts they plucked them Merrily. "Do you white roses in Your hair?" They cried in scorn to Jesus there. The boy said, "Ah, me take, I pray, or must the Naked thorns away." Then of the thorns they made Crown, and with rough fingers Pressed it down, Till on his forehead fair And young red drops of Blood like roses Rung, like Roses Rung