Throughout the day,his master walks without his crown
But when darkness falls
and his master journeys into his dreams
His crown creeps into his chamber
to curl around his head until dawn
Translator's Note: I was a bit flattered by this poem, but perhaps he was flattering himself even more. Just look at the picture he chose. Is he the crown or the king? But I may agree that his worth is equal to that of a bejeweled crown made of pure gold.
No comments:
Post a Comment