Falling in love with all I see,
falling for people,
falling for trees.
I’m the boy who wields the harp,
who plays the lyre, and lights the spark.
He, who falls for love’s naiveté,
so entranced by her perplexity.
I’m the girl with the wispy hair,
with the long dark streaks, in knotted plaits–
with a full face, and painted lips,
reflecting the visage of the Queen’s eclipse.
I’m the child that they brought into the world,
full of joy, and full of love,
who cares so little how it all unfurls,
so long as I have my spot of fun.
You are the man who showed me that,
the world lay silent within your hands,
You are also he, who brought me to my knees,
and slipped away like grains of sand.
This world is all that I’ve been given,
and from it I must make honey,
Through bitter tears, and clenching pain,
I must always seek to make honey.