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Aging Troubadour.
I sing sweet songs to serenade
the beauty on the balcony.
Her fierce duenna has forbade
the maid to show herself to me.
I hear her trying to persuade
her to allow a glance at me.
You must keep well back in the shade
and hide your face most carefully
The lady did as she was bade
The glimpse I saw convincing me.
She had to be the fairest maid
that my old eyes would ever see.
I think that very probably.
She was not too impressed with me.
Monday, 21 June 2010
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