In my stories the princesses…
There are not twenty mattresses,
Neither a pea nor a castle;
They sleep on the earth floor;
In rooms made of paper walls.
In my stories the princesses
Are born with red blood,
Are dressed in rags,
Have skin that shines like satin.
The princesses of my stories
Don’t eat every day,
But show a happiness
That overwhelms you.
The princesses of my stories
Wear veils and crowns;
They are in truth my princesses,
You know it and I know it.
The stories of my princessesThat I’ll tell you if you’ll allow:
Say that they live far away,
In a country that you can not see;
But it is close, believe me,
If you choose to SEE.
If you want to be their fairy,
You only have to believe.
I promise you a thousand and one stories
Of princesses with skin of satin,
For you to dream of every night,
Imagining what their lives CAN BE.
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