The Queen of Flowers and Sorrows

There is a legend… No one knows
That in the sharpest edge of Earth
There lives the Queen of Flowers and Sorrows.
She has been living there since her birth;

Her house in the mountains of snow
Is situated in the gentle slope,
Where the yellow lilies grow
And with the wind is hard to cope.

She spends her days in cozy garden
Just listening to people cry.
But, well, my friend, I beg your pardon,
She does it, but I haven’t told you why.

Once she was cursed by old magician
And since that dark, unhappy day
Her bitter and unfortunate mission’s
Been listening to people pray.

She cannot help them, cannot break this:
She is to hear and to see.
And once she listened to my prayers.
Oh, how I wished she had been free!

I saw her once. She was in flowers.
The lilies twined around her.
I told her everything, just as to higher powers,
Whatever all my sorrows were.

I told her that I had been dreaming
Of tiny house where lots of lilies grew
And of the Queen whose eyes were gleaming
With passions that she only knew.

She smiled to me and said: “You dare?”
She wiped the tear off my cheek
“With you I’d go anywhere
But I am cursed and I am weak”.

I told her that it didn’t matter.
Forgive me, how young I was!
When I was young I was a little better,
But I could not remove her curse.

She made some steps and suddenly fell down.
The burden of her own soul
That people hadn’t been ashamed to wound
To bear was impossible at all.

I took her in my arms. It was too snowy and chilly.
I had been carrying her for many hours
Until she turned into a yellow lily
And disappeared in my arms.

The wind brought back her to the tiny house
Where the yellow lilies grew
And prayers from the North and South
She always had to listen to!

And I am here, as you see me.
I’m older – years went away.
But I’m still desperately dreaming
And nothing changes. All the same.

The tiny house, lilies, white eternal snows,
And in the centre of this all
My Queen of Flowers and Sorrows
With gleaming eyes and wounded soul.

(31.01.13)