Upon the shimmering lagoons
The barque is rocking with its boatman,
At times trifling and at times rearing up
In the play of the water's waves;
Then the song of songs rings out
To the soft tones of his mandolin,
Every little breeze echoes it:
"There are no roses without thorns."

  When the gondolier has taken
His loveliest burden into the gondola,
With powerful arms he rows
The Madonna through the waves;
Then he is gripped by sweet anxiety,
And, quiet tears upon his cheeks,
With solemn mien he sings:
"There are no roses without thorns."

  When silently he lifts the Madonna
From the gondola, who vanishes
Whispering no greeting to the boatman /From the shimmering palazzo
Then he boards his barque,
And for a long time in his dreamy watches 
He sings to the soft tones of his mandolin:
"There are no roses without thorns."