Fairy of love. Alumuflores..

Fairy of love.Fuente

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Fairy of love.

Was it on the islands of the roses,
in the land of dreams,
where there are laughing children
and swarm of butterflies?
Maybe
In its golden caves,
with his golden tiaras,
there they were, like a choir
of queens, all the fairies.
Those who have prisoners
to the sylphs of light,
those who walk with a hood
dotted with stars.
Those that scarlet mantles
they look with regio donaire,
and those that split the air
with his silver wand.
Was it day or night?
The star
from the mist on the tulle,
it bloomed in blue field
like an alabaster lily.
Its gold peplo the uncertain
Alba had already tended.
It was the time when in his nest
all lark wakes up.
The clean glass trembled
from the dew of the night,
and the brooch was half open
of the spring flower.
And in that region that was
of light and fortune,
they sang a hymn, to one,
bird, aurora and spring.
The fairies? That troop
bright ?, Delia, I said,
for a strange whim
They made a cup.
Rare, beautiful, without equal,
and as pure as beautiful,
he has not drunk in it yet
no deadly mouth.
From a gentle lily
they made the chalice light,
that was snow dust
and ivory pallor.
And the base was formed
with a tremulous sigh,
of sapphire highlights
and of crystallized light.
The made cup was thought
what would be put in it
(which is the whole, beautiful girl,
of what I tell you).
One said: "The illusion;
another said:? Beauty;
another said:? wealth;
and another one:? The heart.
Queen Mab, who is discreet,
He said to the splendid troop:
That is put in that cup
complete happiness
And when Reina spoke,
it produced applause and amazement.
He was carrying on his shoulders
his superb royal cloak.
He dropped the divine
Queen of sound accent,
something like drops of gold
of a crystalline flute.
Already Queen Mab spoke;
his olympic gesture ceased,
and the fairies have both put
that the cup was filled.
Love, delight, truth,
bliss, splendor and wealth,
faith, power, beauty ...
All happiness! ...
And this cup was saved
pure, alone, immaculate.
Where?
On an ignored island.
From where?
I forgot!...
Was it on the islands of the roses,
in the land of dreams,
where there are laughing children
and swarms of butterflies?
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
This does not matter here,
because by telling you he wrote
that this cup, my child,
I wish for you

The fairytale cup