Improvisations: Light And Snow: 13

My heart is an old house, and in that forlorn old house, In the very centre, dark and forgotten, Is a locked room where an enchanted princess Lies sleeping. But sometimes, in that dark house, As if almost from the stars, far away, Sounds whisper in that secret room — Faint voices, music, a dying trill of laughter? And suddenly, from her long sleep, The beautiful princess awakes and dances. Who is she? I do not know. Why does she dance? Do not ask me! — Yet to-day, when I saw you, When I saw your eyes troubled with the trouble of happiness, And your mouth trembling into a smile, And your fingers pull shyly forward, — Softly, in that room, The little princess arose And danced; And as she danced the old house gravely trembled With its vague and delicious secret.