The rose does not have a why; it blossums without reason, forgetful of self and oblivious to our vision.
A rose is but a rose, it blooms because it blooms; it thinks not of itself, nor asks if it is seen.
The Rose is without 'why'—she blooms because she blooms.
The rose that with you earthly eyes you see, has flowered in God from all eternity.
The rose has no 'Why?' It flowers because it flowers.
The Rose which here on earth is now perceived by me, has blossomed thus in god from all eternity.
The rose is without 'why'; it blooms simply because it blooms. It pays no attention to itself, nor does it ask whether anyone sees it.