Under the bright light of Heaven's sun, I saw her passing like an angelic nun; Her beauty drew the soul of mine Out from my body, close to her line. Her beauty left no room for the moon To light the night with its silver bloom. Within the blink of an eye she vanished in the air, Only to appear in the woods of despair. My heart gave a sudden chase through the woods; My soul was stung beneath the forest hoods. Far had I come, where beneath a tree, She sat in silence, waiting for me. A smile passed between us, nothing more than that; Our lips longed to murmur—what a pitiful moment we had! My soul began to stammer as I asked my inner self: "Is confessing so hard, or do I make it hard myself?" I gathered my courage and walked with no fear. "Hey, beautiful... I've something for you to hear." She smiled and asked, "What troubles you so?" "Your beauty troubles my heart," I answered low. She smiled and said, "I've something for you too. If my beauty alone has captured you, What if I were as dull as a moth? Would you still have fallen—or left... or both?" "Well, if you were a moth, I'd still admire you by heart; If you were ugly, I'd still have chased you from the start. Being a moth or ugly was never your choice at all; But your gentle heart and kindness made me fall." She stood silent as an ancient tree, Then vanished like rain dissolving into the sea. Was she nothing but a dream throughout the day, Or was my soul teaching my heart a truer way? Now I spend half my days gazing at the trees, Hoping someday someone will be the bees. Buzzing beside me, asking what true love can be; And I'll tell her how it feels to be a Psyche.