Goodbye England’s Rose. Thus Elton John revised the lyrics to “Candle in the Wind” in memory of England’s Princess Diana.

Why is it that I cannot find the proper respect and reverence for the dead? Why is it that I am incapable of seeing past the tremendous irony of those three simple words?

As an image, a cultural symbol, the rose has become a clich‚. It almost seems cheap and trite to refer to anyone as a rose. How many songs have been written drawing this comparison and how many times have poets likened a face, a heart or a soul to this frivolous flower?

Now Elton John has done the same, eulogizing a friend gone early from this earth. His grief is clear and profound, for in Diana he lost a friend.

Many other people feel this way, people who never even knew the princess. Without even realizing it, however, Elton John has drawn a metaphor which strikes much too close to the mark with all its unintended poetic irony.

Talk to my grandmother for a half an hour and you will learn the true nature of the rose. For years my grandmother grew numerous rose bushes in the garden of her Georgia home.

Ask her about the flower and she would tell you how difficult it is to cultivate. She would probably tell you of hours and hours of tedious labor, and tell you of the fickle nature of the flower.

To my grandmother, the rose is a thing of beauty and is worth the cuts from thorns, for the reward is a striking and brilliant blossom which graced her garden every year. She will also tell you that for all its beauty, the rose is susceptible to the ravages of disease, insects and weather.

So Princess Diana, mother of the future king, is now called England’s rose. The parallels, while perhaps unintended, seem irrefutable. She was susceptible to the badgering of the press and had to weather the tremendous storms brought by a life of public scrutiny.

She was susceptible further to the ravages of being human. Diana was not perfect, which is the implicit surface metaphor intended when calling her England’s rose; for truly the rose is often used to suggest physical perfection.

Instead, the deeper metaphor seems more important, like the deeper meaning of the rose, an expression of outward perfection while inwardly flawed and human just like the rest of us.

The royal family tried hard for years to cultivate Diana, if anything England’s wild rose. Diana was not of the royal family, but elevated to such status by right of marriage. Hers was the common blossom, carefully tended to reflect the perfect rose. She was outwardly beautiful, dressed in bright eye-catching color like the most prized and expensive of roses.

Like these roses, Diana was not easily cultivated. Her divorce from Prince Charles is perhaps the strongest evidence that the rose might be taken from the wild, but the wild could never be taken from the rose. If Diana truly is the British embodiment of this flower, then she is the one that would not be molded by the cultivator’s hand.

Instead, her thorns wounded the hand which sought to cultivate her. Indeed, Diana was the thorn in the side of the royal family. A clich‚? Certainly, but appropriately. Princess Diana took the propriety and stodginess of the royal family by the horns, and shook it fiercely.

Think for a moment about the rose. What real intrinsic value does it or any other flower have? They grace our homes and gardens, lending light and color. But the rose in particular is a flower whose “real” value is not as an ornament in the garden. Instead, roses are a commercial powerhouse whose real value is realized when life is snatched from it. Cut the rose from its stem, remove it from its life-source, and the rose can be sold for a ridiculous amount of money. In death, the rose finds value.

Now England’s rose. The outpouring of worldwide respect, admiration and love has come at the instant of her death. Prior to her death she was the subject of tremendous scrutiny and pressure both from the press and the public. Her motives and her personal life were constantly questioned.

Granted, this was a role into which she was not born. Diana acquired her royalty through marriage, and in many ways she sought to use her title for good. Her efforts for charity are well-known and worthy of note, but in life these efforts were eclipsed by obscene interest in her private affairs.

Even so, her efforts were no more noteworthy than those of thousands of others who daily do their part to improve the world quietly and privately. Yet when life was taken from Diana, her value, like that of the rose, grew immensely and the perceived impact of her work likewise grew.

Perhaps this is terribly cynical, but draw the parallel between Diana and another who recently died: Mother Teresa. Where is the international outpouring of respect and grief for Mother Teresa? She, the closest thing to real living altruism seen this century, has been forgotten in the death of Diana, the death of a symbol.

Will songs be written and sung in memory of Mother Teresa?

Perhaps it is good that Elton John and others like him do not sing a rose song for her. Mother Teresa’s legacy is real and her impact on the world is profound. It would be a terrible disservice to so trivialize a life of greatness.

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Michael T. Gardner is a senior in history from Annapolis, Maryland.