Oh lady
of the beguiling eyes,
Robin's eggshells, crushed in
sea-grass,
mirrors of a sly and calculating mind.
Nothing
escapes you,
Not even your own fate.
You know what will
become you,
Understand your utter lack of control
over
decisions that will rule your life to come.
Golden sands under a
burning sky;
there will be no love in your marriage bed.
You
marry for another's gain.
I wish you happiness above all
things,
but I am a King,
even I must sometimes bow
to
little evils.