The kingdom
a memory
of her traces,
the distant view
a smile
beneath a tree
that spread like a crown
over her head
The queen
still, primitive and forbidden
the tyranny of the words
written at the beginning
of every letter she sent:
'There is no grater amusement
than a fool in love.'
The people
unopened envelopes
hanging in every room,
like chandeliers
The king
he had hated
and decided to forgive
And He
the fool that made chandeliers
and always wrote to her that:
'Sometimes, the value of a chain
is acceptable.'
All beneath the bells of the church
the fool- insincere
the queen- playing with her white dress
the king- waiting for an answer
Someone might know who they are...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem