Zywa
The blossoms stay with me
I had to choose the richest
otherwise they would have started a fight
because of me, it seems they like nothing better
where is their sense? In vain
I cry tears about myself
that don't change a thing, nowhere
between the curtains in the inner rooms
my beauty is safe, my soul searches
not knowing what is true for the love
of my strong man in my lap
to surrender free from fear
and become a mother, be
a good wife, not bothered
by a eastern prince who
enchantingly plays the flute
to take me with him on his horses
of the sea to a palace
on waters that are glinting
with misery, bringing ships packed full
of clouds and throwing my blossoms
back on the pebble-sand
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