Opening eyes now for a dream dressed in simple petal skies who remembered her heart:

 

You are that flower who rose

above the others to smile.

You are the flower of culture, music:

whose fragrance is breathed in to the heart.

Never forget the music in your heart,

and no one else will be able to forget it.

 

To me your lips look slightly open

as though inside you were singing.

They are the red fruit of utmost delicious taste.

They are two glorious sunsets,

we each seeing one together, holding hands

before the passion of the night.

To hold one of the hands that now hold your face,

and then I would hold that perfect face to kiss,

seeing through each other's eyes

to find each other's heart.

 

You simmer there in curious passion,

simmering though you are still spring.

Behind you lies the bluish pavement,

as though you had traveled

and come to worship the flowers of spring.

Your hair matching the flowers' yellow, while

their white is the purity of your passion.

 

And though we now meet in dream,

you  the miracle and I who would clasp the miracle to offer my life -

are vividly real,

as is our meeting..

The window between us is opened,

I shall know your fragrance 

and invite you through our openness

into my abode, that shall become 

the vast Palace of the Heart

to mutually free all

that music.