







After a lovely queen of France,

with a hope to be happy forever,

her mother named her, Beatrice,

and prayed, she will never suffer.



With green-brown eyes,

She looked inside my heart.

Beatrice, I'm good and wise.

Your heart, I will never hurt.



With a sad voice, she replied,

my heart and soul are closed.

In the past, someone stupid,

in sadness, my heart dropped.



Beatrice, again you will go!

Can you wait until I finish?

I will change your black to blue.

maybe your pain will vanish.



With a bag in hand, she smiled.

My only cure is traveling.

I'm a bird, free and wild.

My life is to fly and sing.