Behind the veil you pose so gracefully
and shoot me s slight smile, Nykteri,
your gaze brings back to me a memory
of sweet-smelling flowers in a coronet,
a tiara composed of Spring’s utmost beauty,
but I fear today the flowers will be dead –
their remains blowing scattered in the wind,
let us then hope at least they are for Heaven bound
where shine they will forever in your image, and
Nykteri – all my hope was lost and never shall be found