THE QUEEN OF THE RIVERS
She rendered the river waters in my dream
as real gold plates filled the borderline pastures
as if El Dorado had become alive in a beam
of light and beauty, the soft silk is precious.
She rendered the waters all the way uphill
where the stream became a love channel
with birds singing above the arched tunnel,
while no one looked at the birth of April.
She gazed at the lit heaven in an unusual way
seeking a divine word, as if a queen she were,
trusting the vision in her eyes, a flowery array.
She longed for an affluent endowment for every year
until, in the end, she would become an immortal wizard,
for her true silence was just a golden ring on each ear.