Last night, I sat up in a dream - thoughts low-laid,
Envying Endymion as he called to his Diana every night.
I sighed, I cried, gaining weight in every move I made,
Wishing to tell you - "I want to be with you at this moment, right."
I sent the wind over to you, to deliver my wish.
Methinks the wind was luckier, it flirted with your locks
-To forget completely about the job it was to finish,
-To make love to your hair, -to say Fortune mocks.
I then sent the clouds over, asking them to deliver.
Methinks they too were lucky, they found the moon in your face
-To blush at your sight, -to melt and to shower
The tears of their love, of my wish was left no trace.
I counted then upon the stars - one last trial I made.
They too were blessed with two brighter sparks in your eyes.
One made love to my stars, the other had, to itself, love made.
My message was long lost making the swell in me rise.
Just wondering if Creation created you to be loved,
I set out myself to ask your heart for my wish -
"Would you bless me, my Angel,
Would you not love me?"
"Would you smile to me, my Angel,
Would you not be with me?"
