Devoted to Chiaki Kuriyama
Hey, boys! I leave my toys
For elder life and love.
But you’ll be my friends
Until the world ends.
I love, love you all,
But I’m no longer small.
My heart burns with joy,
Because I’ve met the only boy,
I can surrender as a slender flower
To the power of a hurricane.
He tears me off the ground to the sky
And we fly, fly, fly like birds
Forgetting our masks and swords.
We are no longer ninja shades
We fight with open faces and our blades
Sing the samurai song of a fire dance
Until our romance melts in the sea of bliss
Of the first embrace and kiss.
Written for Britney Spears, Natalia Oreiro
and Chiaki Kuriyama
A diamond shines on my palm
Like a fairy tale gift of the skies.
I’m strong, nice and calm
Ignoring silly smiling guys.
The wizard’s stolen stone
Reminds me the heavenly throne
Where the Sun shines alone,
Burning all earthly cloudy lies.
I walk through the mirror of my dream
To the miraculous and dancing realm
Of the laughing galaxies and stars,
Enjoining the angelic jazz,
Which flows to our souls,
Playing their human roles.
We are not girls but butterflies
And we’ll flutter back to the skies.
We’ll melt in the light of down
And the happy day will be born.
Devoted to Vanessa Mae
Yellow River sleeps in fields,
Clouds hold together shields,
Hiding yellow sun in the sky
From the silly yellow guy.
Sailing lonely to the sea,
That he always dreamt to see.
A yellow bee brings yellow honey,
A yellow girl takes for it yellow money.
The yellow guy will it surely buy
And the yellow girl will smile.
“Can I taste your sweet kiss too?”
“Tell me first, who are really you.”
“I’m the salty doll for your sea of bliss,
What you really in your soul miss.
Come on with me to end of time,
I’ll be ever yours and you’ll be ever mine.”
Times is endless as the Yellow River,
The two in the bout melt in sweet fiver.
The silent clouds open the smiling sun
And Heaven sends them a yellow son.
Devoted to Butterflies
The snow is sad, the wind is mad,
My winter evening mood is neither bad, nor good.
I walk alone in the street, where people darkness meet,
Along the houses with yellow windows,
Where live eternal miserable widows.
The dead walk around me with smiles,
Mocking each others’ manners and stiles.
The yellow melon of the moon
Will melt in hungry clouds soon
And the evil shades of the underworld
Will raise up the dancing and laughing whirl.
What’s finally the meaning of these rimes?
We live not in the best of times.
But if you are not afraid of the night,
You can win by the morning the cold fight
And the world with the sunrise
Will throw off this dark disguise
And God will show His might
By the warmth of the sunny light
And everything will be alright.
To Emily Osment
I’m a string-girl, dancing with the stars,
My favorite god is Mars and I like the spring jazz
Of lucid drops, dancing among the fresh green crops.
I fly into the sky like a laser ray of death
For alien birds of the dark. I’m a spark of luck,
But I hate mother’s boys with deadly toys.
And to the call of unfair war I’ll frankly say:
“Fuck USA!”