I once encountered a girl whose presence reminds me of sunlit waves,
such beauty that enthralls one’s eyes.
An enchanting existence that made one catch their breath.

I remember a smile blooming on her face,
and her two orbs which were as radiant as twinkling stars,
a tinge of rosy painted on her cheeks,
the sun-kissed hair that flowed gracefully into a long flock;
or the way summer’s breeze gently swayed her golden dress.

Barefooted,
she was wandering around the meadow alone while picking up daisies,
which I think is inapposite compared to her beauty.
She was completely drowned in her time,
oblivious to my small presence,
who worshipped her tacitly.

I tried to draw near her,
but my body stiffened.
And my voice does not appear to come.
As if I was only permitted to gaze at her—
for she was merely a fragment of my noontide’s summer dream.

Oh, how heavenly it would be to die in her arms as we watched the whole world burn.