You called me the king of something or other
and I smiled—and I cried—
so you can know that you were right.
All in all it was perfect,
I arrived, you were busy
you came, she departed, you played my song.
First though your brother introduced it,
from afar he stated things, set up an already moment,
more beautiful because your eyes were hidden by the music.
A rather short night, packed in meaning
hellos and goodbyes as I made my way to the car
and began to write this poem moments before I left.