There is a plush mansion
On Military Street
Where the princess dwells
With her father the general,
A capable man
With hands stained
With the blood of impressive achievements.
The princess is magnificent in white
With her blond hair pulled tight
Revealing an angelic pale face
More illuminating than moonlight;
Flowers follow her like obedient disciples
And stars swoon for her at night.
I’m the simple pauper
Existing on the cold streets
Of bruised egos,
I’m the singing fool
In love with the art of the soul.
My only divine purpose
Is to believe in the mystical powers
Of the general’s daughter
And convince her of my integrity.
I’m the singing fool In love with the art of the soul.'''' magnificent. Lyrical, poetic - in one. best care, sjg
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Simply magnificent. Your imagery oft astounds, but this poem seems to break new ground. Astonishing work, Uriah. Great admiration from - Will