Yes...one that reads your feelings so ardour
Of that your desire such splendour
As such it says; it's never a wonder
To have your smitten heart shudder
At the thought of her beauty; such grandeur.
It's a bud; even as it doesn't flower
For they too call it soft, the poplar
It also shines bright, the lopsided star.
The bud is meant to flower, the star to shine from under.
For such is this Lvov, with its tuck and splinter.
As you tread on this your crystal stair
The evening smiling with you as you stare
The pilgrim soul in you so bare
But filled with glad grace- Oh your flower!
Tulip, crocus, violet or rose- beauty beyond measure.
Let not the silken mists blind your eyes
And cause you to bow shyly as wet swans
Be cautious of jealous trouts
Don't hit your toe on linden trees
And beware of the sun's flame-white disc.
Be sure to learn the song by heart
Before you start to flatter and flaunt
It is not right for you to fight
If you learn it,it sounds right.
The sun's flame-white disc will light,
As you pursue your longing by night.
By Flora Njeru
