I wanted to give you roses - but they wilter far too soon
I considered lilies - but those you lay on tombs
Orchidées I thought of - but the clime is far too cold
And violets are far too small, although they match your eyes

Poppies are too common, for you're a Lady born
Carnations are for burials, the darkness of the grave
I doubt you will forget me - that rules out forget-me-nots
So I'll send to you those pansies with my love attached to them all.