Let us talk about other things instead
such as the prince in black straying amid weeds
carvings on his cane long blurred and dead
at noon, he sits beneath the tree
watching leaves shower from the crown freely
like flocks of red butterflies chasing around on the ground
all sufferings have long been borne and found
dust shall still rise behind horse hooves unceasing
his gaze was like early frost spreading
o’er all grasslands across the world unending
we chat softly, waiting for his return
let mist fill every corner of the room
let butterfly swarms glimmer through the gloom
after the heat fades away
he shall come riding home one day
his long sword at his waist gleamed bright
seen by maidens drawing water in sight
they will gasp in sudden sweet surprise
then we turn to other themes and converse
mud soaked in rainy seasons, old realms
jewels and fine porcelain, all tales traverse
Artwork by: Walter Crane
