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.
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