wish

should I become old I would that my paper-thin skin glows with some sort of luminosity

They say that there is kiss

They say that there is kiss

That will cause Beauty to stir in her deep sleep

Move her head, arms, feet

Her pale cheek to flush so slightly

Under the pressure of tender lips

Eyelids to flutter, then to open

They say there is a Prince called Truth

Full of Peace

In whose veins flow liquid love

He longs to awaken Beauty

To walk with her along paths of Goodness

And birdsong