You are born to dance with the wind,
veiled within a circle of oak’s trees,
Half-dressed by moving shadows,
Half-exposed by bold daylight.
Jasmines by the left side, dandelions by the right side
dancing together with you, nymphs, satyrs and sprites.
The melody luring a brown bird,
Silent with cautious veneration,
advances over valleys and hills
until reaching the sea shore.
Beauty framed you with Music, Beauty will gird
you in a bower, close is the night of your coronation.
My eyes follow as you move
Spiraling between my fingertips,
Sweet scented boon of Spring
Meet the dwelling of my spirit,
You will last less than a day, you will last less than love
but is there a fancier grave to lay than her smiling lips?