She glides over the ground and glazes the air,
Trailing a heavenly stairway of silken hair,
All she passes turns to gold,
Blessed is all she stoops to hold.
She spends long gilded days,
Catching splendid sun rays,
As free as a warm, perfumed breeze,
Doing as she does pertly please.
Playing in forests, meadows and beaches,
To fly as high as the fingertip reaches,
Through magic, fairy dust and falling flowers,
Bewitched by spellbinding powers.
I dream of chasing her through the twilight,
To the castle of the heart's delight,
To birth a bright new life,
With her as my exalted wife.
Like a summer's dream,
Flowing as a gentle stream,
With the days wiling and winding away,
In a bed of feathers to lay.
We without a care,
In liberty passions would stir,
To be lovers by night,
And angels in the light.
Oh I dream, dream of this day! ,
How I pray! How I pray! ,
'Tis the boon to all I write,
For I am smitten by the sight of the gay little sprite,
What a spectacle to entrance,
That does sing and dance and prance!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem