Slaves and kings alike would dream to be with you,
If only they had the power to change their stars.
With but a shirt frayed, those poor men, it’s true,
Would still think of nothing save to win your heart.
To shield you from all the miseries of this world
They would wage for ages a senseless war –
All to win your love, your sorrows to joys unfurl –
And place every flower of the earth at your door.
Could even a queen compare to your graces divine
Though through their veins flows the bluest blood?
Had they but a drop of your essence in their bloodline,
They could erupt many a tempest, a hurricane, a flood.
A king in his power would cross mountains to capture your heart
But I, your humble servant, fulfil my duty by writing you into art.
2019 г.
Humble servant
© Copyright: Даниил Диденко, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121060903551
Свидетельство о публикации №121060903551
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