In this blood

I am the Bride
and the Bride is me

How beautiful
She is

We wear a robe of humility
with the smile of a princess

Her hands move delicately
Yet are darkened by soil and sun

Diligently she works
Pressing oil, spinning thread

She smells like the fish market
Her love is faithfull

The sick are healed
The sad are comforted

Her words are balm for the soul
Wisdom like gold falls from her lips

Her eyes shine hope and assurance
When the sky is dark and threatening

It were as if her lover really was

The King