The Murder of a King
Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and began:
" Dreams are fantasies
Fantasies which will never come true,
They all lie in ashes
When morning comes in view!
Fallen in love with a prince,
I dreamt one day.
He wore the white fustanella
And was always happy and gay.
His crown of palm leaves
Glittered in the morning sun.
He rode Bucaphelis,
Nobody did he shun.
One day we met in the garden of Kaleen.
Handsome he was and impavid
His smile was dimpled and his eyes cerulean
He resembled love god Cupid!
In his arms, I was carried to his palace,
He laid me upon his rose spread bed.
We talked and laughed
till the sun went down.
' you will be my queen', at last, he said.
Alas! It was a dream
Bab Populer