虽然她现在变成了一堆灰尘，我们将永远记住一个年轻漂亮的女士时，她吻了玫瑰红和新鲜的祖母。

Even though she now became a pile of dust, we will always remember grandmother as a young and beautiful lady when she kissed the red and fresh roses.

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不过在这土上面，新的玫瑰又开出了花，夜莺在那上面唱歌，风琴奏出音乐，于是人们就想起了那位有一对温和的、永远年轻的大眼睛的老祖母。

But over the grave fresh roses bloom, the nightingale sings, and the organ sounds and there still lives a remembrance of old grandmother, with the loving, gentle eyes that always looked young.

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我们的眼睛将会看到祖母，年轻美丽的祖母，像她第一次吻着那朵鲜红的、现在躺在坟里变成了土的玫瑰花时的祖母。

Ours will once again behold dear grandmother, young and beautiful as when, for the first time, she kissed the fresh, red rose, that is now dust in the grave.

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