With much enthusiasm, deep passion, I assembled all colors,
And tried to paint a portrait of my princess on a paper,
But the canvas was too petty a thing to contain her grandeur,
Moreover, to rake up her beauty and radiance the colors lack
caliber.
I searched dictionaries, encyclopedias and in all possible
counters,
To pick adjectives to narrate her quality, relate her
nature,
But no language contains enough of them to befit my lover,
And satisfy my thirst
of rhapsodizing what I witness in her.
I tested each musical instrument to match her utter,
Failing to find equivalent in them, I probe into the nature,
But no species or inanimate possesses that sweetness, that
enamor,
As melodious, thrilling and unique as in the ruler of my
heart feature.
Maybe god the magician has used his entire mind, might at
leisure,
To produce the best art in order to establish his creative power,
Or was in a mood to appease and impress his eternal uxor,
And must be convinced and confident that she is the best of his
atelier.
I know I am not a poet, not an artist not knowledgeable
enough either,
And so is none on earth worthy and capable enough to appreciate
her,
Nothing on earth is at par with her altitude in nature, caliber
and texture,
As she is the best woman, a unique and unrepeatable act of
the creator.
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