Nothing

I should name, you say, my

queen in the realm of love?

You are fools, for I know

her less than you do.

Ask me about the color of her eyes;

ask me about the sound of her voice;

ask me about her gait and posture, and how she dances;

ah, what do I know about it?

Is not the sun the source

of all life and all light?

And about this, what do

I and you and everyone know? Nothing.