The Master and His Soulmate

I am a foolish drunken poet,  
seeking vanity without ceasing,  
I may never warrant it,  
but I’m always enchanted by it  
easily declaiming fruitless praises  
yet in the dangerous eyes of my dear  
I sing the songs for the beauty
from the sunflower land!  

all day long, certain thoughts  
for months and it’s been going on  
rarely complete, by the servant of the soul  
praising the bright blonde crown,  
softness of her soul, such fine love,  
for she is the living soulmate,  
the master bows down, praising merrily and drinking without haste  
 
the brows above her eyes  
shaped so perfectly, she shines  
the suppleness of her breasts,  
imagining her arms around my chest  
she’s a beauty’s with a bright drape,  
deserving men’s honour, praises to take  
from the master’s finest word wizardry, for none of it is fake!  
 
the soulmate of the sunflower meadows  
shining so brightly, never hiding in the shadows  
by the coast of the Black Sea, where is was lovingly conceived  
to this world she is a treasure, so lovingly received  
homage to the creator’s greatness,  
chorus filled melodies, the master screams merrily with all happiness  

I shall declare, as a proud poet
whispering words to the ears to hear,
romantic as you already know it
and caressing the body with a silk tourniquet
cuddling tightly, under the pale moonlight
kissing your sweetlips throughout the night
feeling the shape of your heart, till the darling of the bright morning light
 
“So close no matter how far, could not be much more from the heart!”  
as he screams, letting the songs to the soul reverberate  
knowing that it’s nothing more that a predestined fate  
driven by all the instinctive thoughts and decisions to make  
soon it will then begin, the story of a master and his soulmate!