；但那裡的哪一朵玫瑰能展現出最高尚、最純潔的愛呢？

the flower must be one from the garden of love; but which of the roses there showed forth the highest and purest love?

詩人們歌頌著這朵世界上最美麗的玫瑰，每個人都說出一朵自己認為配得上這個稱號的玫瑰；關於所需之物的訊息被傳送到每一顆因愛而跳動的心裡；傳送到每一個階層、每一個年齡段、每一種境遇的人那裡。

the poets sang of this rose, the loveliest in the world, and each named one which he considered worthy of that title; and intelligence of what was required was sent far and wide to every heart that beat with love; to every class, age, and condition.

“還沒有人說出那朵花的名字，” 智者說。

“No one has yet named the flower,” said the wise man.

“還沒有人指出它盛開得無比絢爛的地方。它不是來自羅密歐與朱麗葉棺木上的玫瑰，也不是來自瓦爾堡墓上的玫瑰，儘管這些玫瑰會在永恆的歌謠中長存。它也不是從溫克爾裡德那沾滿鮮血的英名中萌發出來的玫瑰。一位為祖國捐軀的英雄胸膛裡流淌出的鮮血是神聖的，他的英名是甜蜜的，沒有哪朵玫瑰能比從他血管裡流淌出的鮮血更紅。它也不是科學的神奇之花，為了得到這奇妙的花朵，一個人會在孤寂的斗室裡，在無數個不眠之夜，耗費自己青春年少時的許多時光。”

“No one has pointed out the spot where it blooms in all its splendor. It is not a rose from the coffin of Romeo and Juliet, or from the grave of walburg, though these roses will live in everlasting song. It is not one of the roses which sprouted forth from the blood-stained fame of winkelreid. the blood which flows from the breast of a hero who dies for his country is sacred, and his memory is sweet, and no rose can be redder than the blood which flows from his veins. Neither is it the magic flower of Science, to obtain which wondrous flower a man devotes many an hour of his fresh young life in sleepless nights, in a lonely chamber.”

“我知道它在哪裡盛開，” 一位幸福的母親說道，她帶著可