"Poetry"

Since childhood I thought,

That there can be no greater love than to die for that special person.

And since childhood I thought too,

That only in fairy tales could happen.

...

And at first, as from afar, an enigma.

Speaking a language unknown to me,

Mounted on a donkey coming

The most beautiful poetry that could write in history.

...

It was Him: One who came to die for me.

No apparent beauty, have there.

However, wonderfully attractive ... for me.

...

And finally, like something out of a story, I close my eyes, there he comes.

But it's not a story, so I can clearly see.

He takes my hand and after waltzing,

He invited me to his table and laughed, because time is no more.

...

And to see him smile with me, I feel the tears will burst,

But it is strange; I can not mourn.

"Tears do not exist here," he tells me with a look of kindness.

"Come on, recite your poems, I'll listen for eternity."

...

A donkey and not on the white horse coming King gave me.

The prince never existed.

And as I said, since childhood I never thought,

It would be for someone very special to die for me.

I dream of the day you ask me recite my verses before you.

...

For You are the most beautiful poetry in history could write.

...