La Rosa Blu 藍色的玫瑰 青いバラ

In the hidden quarter of Venice, where narrow canals slept beneath silver mist and old palazzos leaned close to whisper secrets, there stood a forgotten garden behind iron gates. Few knew of it, and fewer still had entered. It was said that no ordinary flower could bloom there—except one.

Every spring, among the marble statues and crumbling fountains, a single blue rose opened its petals to the moon.

Its keeper was Lady Serafina, a noblewoman who dressed in shades of twilight blue and moved through the city like a memory. Some called her beautiful, others dangerous, and many believed she had not aged in fifty years. She was always seen carrying pale flowers and wearing a smile touched by sorrow.

The people of Venice whispered that the blue rose held her heart.

Long ago, Serafina had loved a young gondolier named Matteo, whose laughter echoed brighter than church bells across the Grand Canal. They planned to flee the rules of rank and family, but on the night they were to leave, a storm rose like vengeance. Matteo’s gondola vanished beneath black waters near the Rialto Bridge.

Serafina never married. Instead, she disappeared into the hidden garden.

Years later, a botanist from Florence arrived in Venice, seeking the legendary bloom. His name was Luca, curious and kind, with hands stained by soil and ink. He found Lady Serafina standing among thousands of blue flowers, yet only one rose glowed like sapphire fire.

“It is beautiful,” Luca said.

“It is cursed,” Serafina replied.

She told him the truth: on the night Matteo died, she had begged the stars to return him. A wandering alchemist granted her wish in cruel fashion. Matteo’s soul was bound within the blue rose, blooming once each year, fading by dawn. As long as she guarded it, she would remain young—but never free.

Luca looked at the rose, trembling softly in the moonlight.

“Then love has become a prison,” he said.

That night, while bells rang midnight across Venice, Luca cut the stem.

The garden shook. Marble cracked. Petals flew like blue snow through the air. From the shattered bloom rose the figure of Matteo, smiling as he had on the day he was lost.

He touched Serafina’s cheek.

“You waited too long,” he whispered gently.

Then he kissed her forehead and vanished into light.

The magic broke. Serafina’s hair turned silver, her face softened with age, and tears—true tears—fell for the first time in decades.

By morning, the hidden garden was gone. In its place stood an open courtyard filled with ordinary roses.

Some say an old woman can still be seen walking Venice at dawn, feeding birds near the water and smiling whenever she passes a gondola.

And every spring, beside a weathered fountain, one small rose blooms blue.

The Venice Carnevale is not solely about masks. Local Italians and an increasing number of foreign costumers now prefer historical costumes or painted faces. During Carnevale, the whole Venice becomes a real life theatrical stage...La Rosa Blu (The Blue Rose) is the costume by famous Venetian costumer Michy Reine for this year's Carnevale...