In the early morning, behind my open window,
I listened to the sighs of the smitten elf,
and in his voice resounded the strength of desire,
for that beloved who had bewitched him.
The drizzle was falling, a silent witness of that encounter,
between the elf and his muse, an eternal bond,
where love is clothed in enchantment and poetry,
and the night is illuminated by internal fires.
Such is the story of that dreaming elf,
who in the early morning found inspiration,
in the eyes of a princess of magic and dreams,
a love that overflows with joy and fascination.
