I was the thirsty sleeping beauty
but you were the young wine.
I was the blind that begged for light
you were a light that always shone.
I was the spring that turned into a river
you were a light and warm breeze.
I was the tired quiet night
that longed for a fairytale.
Behind the mountains I waited for you
I waited for you by the sea.
I read you my first poems
at life’s wishing moments.
With a cross on your chest in a white gown
you touched my heart.
At life’s island, at death’s valley
shone glory from your eyes.
I was the thirsty sleeping beauty
but you the young wine.
And the night brought us northern lights
and a new song to me.
We have slept under the magic tent
and time escaped quickly.
But there it was bright and you were kissed
for a thousand and one night.
Though wounded birds sing loud
their song is a wail.
They hurt the most that flew high
and fell down to a stone.
And over the valley it darkens fast
as day escapes away.
I was the thirsty quiet night
but you were a fairytale.