Your skin glows like the strawberry, blossoms glimmering as the roses in the purest hope of spring.
My yearning heart rises to your flute voice and leaps like a horse at the whisper of your name.
The evening ascends on a great swallow’s tail wing.
I am calmed by your voice that I carry into the twilight of lovebeams and hold next to my heart.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of pure blood.
As my voice falls from my dress, it reminds me of your calming voice
In the hush, I listen for the last sign of spring.
My heated nerves leap to my head.
I wait in the crystal moonlight for your magic black mare
So that we may run as one, nerves to nerves
In search of the glorious black and spiritual singer of love.